


Now We Hunt

by Onlymystory



Series: The Call of the Pack [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hunter!Stiles, M/M, Pack Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymystory/pseuds/Onlymystory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chris and Derek decide the humans of the pack need weapons and self-defense training, it doesn't take long for Stiles to prove he's no beginner. The only problem is that he stopped being a hunter a while ago, and he's not sure he wants to return, even for his pack.</p><p>Or a canon-divergent fic with hunter!Stiles, none of our favorites dead, and lots of pack feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So a while back I posted a little hunter!Stiles drabble that I didn’t plan on doing anything with. But…  
> See, I’m a massive fan of KouriArashi’s series “The Sum of Our Parts” and I really like the way she’s essentially created an entirely different story, with most of the same characters and relationships we all know and love. And I’ve got a few other canon-divergent type stories I want to do as well, but that I think fit better in a series, rather than random one-shots. That said, my series is definitely different than TSoOP. For one it kickstarts later in canon, I’m pretty sure I like Jackson a lot more, and well you’ll see. The point is that it was a combination of that series and a few lingering ideas that made me start this series.  
> That said, here are the couple of things I think are worth knowing. This is canon-compliant up through S2 with a few exceptions. Gerard is dead. Not coming back, not in a nursing home, just dead. Boyd & Erica didn’t run away. The other main thing is that my personal headcanon for Peter is that while he may have always been capable of darker decisions (just as I believe Stiles is), it was the fire that made him psycho. The show theory that he was out to fuck over Derek and the Hale pack from the beginning just doesn’t make sense to me. Anyway, so now that he’s back from the dead and his revenge is done, he’s not safe by any means, but he’s also not a threat to the pack. So don’t hold your breath for a Peter betrayal.  
> I think that’s it. Hope you like it!

To say things change is an understatement. After the giant showdown at the warehouse, it takes several weeks for any sort of truce to be reached, not that Stiles really expects any better. There were a lot of people hurt and no matter how much choices are understood in theory, the reality doesn’t mean everyone can forgive and forget right away.

Boyd and Erica are more trusting of Chris than Allison, even though Allison is trying to make amends. Allison finally yelled at Isaac to say something on one of the last days of school, only for him to call her a bitch and then ask for a ride home. Stiles isn’t trying to understand that one at all.

Scott and Derek are...well, they’re trying. Stiles can’t help but be pissed at Scott on Derek’s behalf, and he’s a little angry that Derek won’t admit how much being betrayed and used like that hurt him. Initially Scott had pushed his argument about not having a choice, but he came around and realized he was wrong after Stiles ignored his calls for a week and his mother lectured him about robbing others of their agency. Now Derek and Scott are tentatively trying to start over. The past doesn’t make it easy though.

Lydia and Jackson end up spending a ridiculous amount of time at Stiles’ house.

He’s getting past the whole Lydia will never really be interested in him like that thing, though the walking Nicholas Sparks cliche could quit making out on his couch.

Even so, Stiles likes having them around. Jackson won’t go near Derek, an issue Stiles has no intention of dealing with, but his perpetual need to be the best means he’s actually listening to Stiles’ advice on werewolvlihood.

He and Lydia have been diving into research far beyond the Beastiary and what they can get from Peter, knowing that more will be coming, and wanting to be prepared.

As the weeks pass, Derek holds training meetings and Scott keeps having board game nights at his house (Apples to Apples has been forever banned after the coffee table incident), and Stiles feels like he’s starting to see a pack come together.

Which of course explains why that’s when everything goes to hell.

~

Chris and Derek have decided that the humans, well Lydia and Stiles since Allison was already doing hunter work, needed to start training with traditional weapons so they weren’t liabilities in a fight. Chris is teaching them how to use a rifle today.

Correction. Chris is teaching Lydia. He thought he was teaching Stiles. Allison is practicing. But then, no one actually knows that Stiles has done this before. With good reason. He hasn’t actually given any interest in carrying a weapon beyond his bat.

Stiles sighs. “I’m doing this under protest.” But he picks up the rifle and looks out at the targets. Ten of them for himself, Lydia, and Allison.

Lydia had hit four of her targets and she was currently scribbling formulas on a piece of paper. Stiles assumes it was to help her understand trajectories and turn shooting into a mathematical problem. Which was fine and all for target practice but it wouldn’t help her in an actual life or death scenario.

Allison hits eight of her targets, missing one nearly hidden in brush and the farthest one out. She seemed pissed about only getting the bullseye on two, even though Stiles wants to point out that a bullet in a body still takes the target out, even if it isn’t an immediate kill. Allison’s bullet to the dummy’s ribs is still effective.

He thinks about telling her that really, the heart isn’t the best place to aim anyway. But they’ll probably get that anyway.

The cold metal in his hands feels good. Too good. There are reasons that Stiles doesn’t carry a gun, that he chooses to use a bat and his wits to protect him when fighting with the pack.

This feeling of power, the knowledge that he has a small amount of control over life makes him feel like Death. It’s heady and he gives a little whine of contentment as the gun settled into his hands.

The others laugh and tell him he’ll probably hit at least one target. Well, it’s good they think the noise was protesting.

From the corner of his eye, Peter gives him a sharp look, and Stiles knows that Peter understands the truth.

Chris is talking. Stiles makes a concerted effort to tune into instructions on how to use the gun and the best way to aim. He nods where he’s supposed to and eventually Chris stops and indicates that Stiles can go ahead.

Stiles raises the rifle and sights his first target. He does a slow sweep, picking out each one, memorizing the location and the angle he needs to hit it.

“Want us to move ‘em closer for ya, Stilinski?” laughs Jackson. Okay, so they aren’t great friends yet. Stiles would be concerned if Jackson’s personality completely changed.

“Just pick one that seems easiest,” says Chris, from Stiles’ left, a few feet behind him. “Nothing wrong with missing your first time out. This is just an exercise to see which areas need more focus.”

“Placement test,” mutters Stiles and he can sense the smiles.

“Exactly.”

Stiles closes his eyes and breathes, decides his order, opens his eyes and fires into the second closest bottle. He hits it at the greatest pressure point, causing it to shatter instead of merely break.

It’s a smooth, effortless movement to adjust his aim and fire again, a split second later at the next target. A minute passes and then he’s lowering the gun and closing his eyes. “Someone take it please,” he says quietly.

Peter has the gun before the others can understand what Stiles is asking, brusquely unloading it, flipping on the safety, and placing it back on the weapons table.

Stiles waits a little bit longer before opening his eyes and turning to the pack. To say they’re shocked might be an understatement. Derek and Chris are both wide-eyed, as is Scott. Jackson looks jealous, Lydia looks like he’s a new puzzle to solve. Actually, Allison looks a bit jealous too and Stiles supposes that makes sense. Everyone thinks of Jackson as the competitive member of the pack but Allison and Erica can rival him any day of the week.

He’s kind of glad the beta trio are patrolling right now. There’s enough people staring already. The only comfort is Peter, who seems to be understanding something. It should be frightening, being on common ground with Peter, but Stiles has been there for a long time and Peter is actually the only one there who’s old enough to remember more details than he should.

He’ll have to talk to Peter later.

There’s silence as Jackson and Scott bring back the targets that had bullseyes on them, checking to see how well he did. Stiles doesn’t look at any of them.

He breathes, even and deep, calming himself, reminding himself where he is, and more importantly where he isn’t. He’s settled by the time the boys return.

Chris looks sharply at Stiles when he sees the dummy, though Allison crows a little. She was only looking at the painted on target, not the full dummy.

“I knew you couldn’t be perfect. You still missed one!”

“Allison!” snaps Chris, causing her to quiet down. He turns to Stiles. “That’s a kill shot, Stiles.”

The bullet hole is straight through the face, just to the side of the dummy’s nose and at the corner of the right eye..

“Isn’t a kill shot in the forehead?” asks Jackson, genuinely curious and confused at Chris’ wary tone.

“Any shot in the head is almost guaranteed to kill the person,” agrees Chris. “But they’ll still have anywhere from a few seconds to minutes to know what’s going on. Unless you shoot the brain stem.”

“Well obviously Stiles doesn’t know that,” says Scott, glaring at Chris.

Chris glares back. “Really? Then maybe Stiles can tell me how he managed to completely miss the target, over the heart. Did you know to aim for the nose, Stiles?”

Stiles shakes his head, but speaks before anyone can be indignant on his behalf. “Bones in the front of the skull are hard to penetrate without a specific type of bullet. Aiming for the nose still creates a margin of error. The eye-sockets are the best choice because they don’t create the same level of resistance.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you could shoot?” asks Derek.

“Because I don’t like to,” answers Stiles honestly. “And it hasn’t been necessary yet.”

Lydia studies him. “So you would if we needed you? Really needed you not just if it made the fight easier?”

“Yes. You’re still my pack. If it came to it, I’d protect you any way I know how.”

That seems to release the tension in everyone. Derek and Chris call an end to training, saying they need to reevaluate the best way to go forward, now that they know Stiles doesn’t need beginner instruction.

Even Lydia is a bit above a beginner.

“You would have made a good hunter,” says Chris quietly, as he loads the last case into his SUV.

“I was a great hunter,” answers Stiles and walks away.

~

“Dad,” says Stiles as he walks into the house. “We need to talk.”

“Is this a I’m into guys and girls conversation, a so about the werewolf pack I’m in conversation, or just the fact that you still won’t let me have bacon?” John Stilinski’s voice carries from the kitchen, so Stiles makes his way in there.

There’s what looks like fairly fresh coffee in the pot and leftover muffins from the station, so Stiles helps himself before sitting down. “I fired a gun today,” he begins without preamble.

John’s head snaps up and he sets his own mug down very deliberately. “I thought you weren’t interested in that anymore.”

“I’m not.” Stiles hesitates. “Or…”

“Things change?” offers John.

He nods. “I’ve been trying to help in other ways. Research, being a good friend, mediating. Derek and Chris wanted Lydia and I to train in other weapons, trying to keep us safe and all. I couldn’t fake that, it’s just not in me.” His dad doesn’t say anything, but his eyes reflect his understanding. “Anyway,” continues Stiles, “I think the pack may need me to be more than just Stiles, resident Google expert and best friend.”

“Is there something in particular that makes you say that? Because you know you could focus solely on your spark from my side of the family. You don’t have to be a hunter again.”

“I think I’m going to be Derek’s emissary,” says Stiles carefully. “But there was a symbol painted on Derek’s door the other day. It’s why he talked to Chris about training us human members of the pack and I have the feeling it means the Argent name won’t be enough.”

John sips at his coffee and frowns at the now cold drink. Stiles take the opportunity to shove half a muffin in his mouth. “Symbol?”

“Deucalion,” answers Stiles.

“I thought you trained at the warehouse.”

“We do.”

“So you and Derek?”

“Are you asking as the Sheriff or as my dad?”

John sighs, then gets up to heat his coffee. Stiles waits and finishes his food. Once John returns to the table, his gaze is steady on Stiles. “I’m asking as your father.”

Stiles nods.

“And you’re being safe? This is your choice? You aren’t being pressured into anything?”

“It’s um, pretty new, not really at a being safe point so far,” allows Stiles, blushing slightly. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t matter how old you are, talking relationships with your parents is always supposed to be a little awkward. “But definitely my choice. And his. I wouldn’t want to push Derek into anything either.”

“Does he know that it’s Deucalion’s symbol?”

“Peter told him.” Stiles knows exactly what’s coming, maybe even more than Peter and Chris. Deucalion and his crew of alphas and legendary emissary Jennifer Blake are, to put it mildly, the biggest pains in the ass in the supernatural world. Enforcers of procedure, they’re no doubt coming to Beacon Hills because hunter wars, resurrections, and kanimas don’t exactly keep their world a secret.

But Deucalion’s crew are more like the bullies in a Hollywood version of high school. They’d rather see a werewolf pack fail than prove themselves, and they spend quite a bit of time insuring that happens. Part of it stems from territorial takeovers, but most of it is just about being assholes. Deucalion has Kali in his pack however, and the female werewolf has the sort of connections that keep them in charge. Essentially.

If the Alphas are coming to Beacon Hills, Stiles’ secret can’t stay that way any longer.

“So what are you going to do?” asks John, interrupting Stiles’ thought process.

Stiles makes a frustrated noise. “Call a pack meeting. Tell them about Mom. About the Alphas. And about where we go from here.”

“Everything about Claudia?”

“No.” Stiles is firm, despite what looks like surprise in his dad’s eyes. “I think I’ll keep this at a need to know only level.”

“Okay. You know I support you either way right?”

Stiles nods. “Thanks Dad. Any chance I can convince you to go get some sodas from the store while I make a few calls? I have the feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

~

Once the conversation with his dad was over, Stiles headed up to his room to process and figure out exactly how he was going to handle the pack.

The thing was, he hadn’t been lying when he told Chris he was a great hunter. Stiles had been trained as soon as he was old enough to understand that knives were sharp. His mother came from a long line of hunters, with a lineage far superior to the Argent name. Whereas Allison’s parents kept the supernatural world secret, Claudia had always been upfront about it. So much so that it had been difficult for Stiles to act like he’d researched this sort of thing, rather than blurting out his knowledge.

He’d been trained in various weaponry, focusing on a sniper rifle once he reached the age of 9.

THe problem really wasn’t that Stiles didn’t like his heritage. He took a great deal of pride in it actually. But when his mother got sick, he hadn’t reacted well, becoming obsessed with hunting.

Looking back, Stiles could tell his saving grace was the far stricter code his family held, one that had so many checks and balances it was nearly impossible to injure an innocent life.

Still, it was the way he nearly went into a trance with his gun that had finally snapped John Stilinski out of his grief. Together they began to heal and until today, Stiles hadn’t touched a gun in nearly two years.

But just as Derek was learning, no one gets to walk away from destiny. And Stiles has always known his.

~

“Stiles?” Derek knocks at the door to his bedroom and the sound reminds Stiles that there’s a whole other secret in his life that is likely to come out sooner than later. At least knowing his luck.

BUt he automatically feels more at ease in Derek’s presence, so he motions for him to come in. “Dad let you in?”

Derek nods. “He said something about the store and that you probably wanted to talk before everyone else got here.”

“He’s right,” says Stiles.

Derek sits on the bed next to him, his hand curling protectively around Stiles’ knee as Stiles shuffles closer.

“Is this about earlier?” asks Derek.

Stiles sighs, nods his head, and tells Derek about his mom.

When he’s done, Derek simply leans his head against Stiles’ shoulder. It didn’t take him long to learn that when Stiles was upset, he needed to comfort more than be comforted. “She sounds amazing,” says Derek. “I wonder if my mother knew her.”

“I think they must have. Two women with that sort of strength and honor couldn’t possibly have lived in the same town without being friends.” Stiles’ rests his head against Derek’s as he speaks.

He’s not sure what he would have done without Derek these last few months. It’s been Derek who makes Stiles feel like he isn’t drowning anymore.

“Are you telling the pack about your mom? They need to know.”

“I know,” agrees Stiles. “That’s why I called the meeting.”

“What about us?” There’s a hesitancy in Derek’s voice, one that Stiles isn’t quite sure how to read. Still, he knows how he feels, and honesty has been the foundation between the two of them for far too long for him to change now.

“I think I’d like to keep us a secret,” he says, hurrying on to make sure Derek understands. “Not that I want you to be a secret. It’s just that I like this, what we have now. I like being able to go to you and be with you and not have everyone else’s input. You feel safe to me, and part of me is afraid I’d lose that if everyone knew. Is that okay?”

“Will you be okay if I say for now but not forever?”

“Absolutely.” Stiles squeezes Derek’s hand in promise.

They sit quietly for a few more minutes until the sounds of people entering the house interrupt the peace. Stiles sighs and stands up. “Here goes nothing.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So you’re a hunter? Or an emissary?” Isaac voices what Stiles guesses is the question on everyone’s lips.

The reveal was easier than he expected. Pack meetings aren’t out of the ordinary, so no one was too on edge. His dad eased the way as well, beginning the meeting by explaining that as others in the room knew, parents make certain choices in how they raise their kids, and that he and Claudia had raised Stiles in a way that ceased with her death. John’s words helped keep everyone immediately overreacting when Stiles said he was raised as a hunter, but has an emissary’s spark from his dad’s side of the family. Still, now that Stiles has fully shared his background, he knows there are a lot of questions.

“Neither at the moment,” says Stiles in answer to Isaac’s question. “I was a hunter, I have the potential to be an emissary. But I haven’t been active in one lifestyle and I haven’t started training in the other.”

“But you were a hunter like me?” asks Allison.

Stiles shakes his head. “First, I’d be more on par with your father’s skill level.” He says it not out of cockiness but honesty. Allison’s only recently started training as a huntress, so it makes sense that he was better. “Second, we were never hunters like the Argent family.”

“You didn’t go after werewolves?”

Chris sighs. “He means they didn’t go after innocent werewolves.”

Allison looks appropriately abashed and there are a few low growls from others in the room. Pack is one thing, friendships are still struggling.

“Well both,” corrects John. “We had very strict checks in place to prevent the killing of innocents, but Claudia’s family didn’t hunt werewolves, hence Stiles’ continued desire to learn about the pack.”

“What did you hunt then?” asks Boyd. He and Erica are sitting on the other side of the room, still uncomfortable too close to Allison, but they’ve been paying close attention.

“Demons.”

That gets a reaction, questions and assumptions being thrown out and tossing the room into a confused turmoil until there’s a knock at the front door.

John goes to answer it while Stiles tries to answer questions and a moment later, returns to the room with Peter. Peter goes directly to Derek and shows him a picture on the phone. Derek snarls and snaps in full alpha tone, “Enough. We have a bigger problem. Everyone sit.”

Chris looks like he wants to argue but when he notices that Allison is pack enough to obey, he subsides.

“Is it?” asks Stiles.

Derek nods. “Symbol on the train station.”

“Symbol?” interrupts Scott.

“Deucalion. He’s here with the Alpha pack.”

“An Alpha pack?”

“They’re essentially enforcers of werewolf pack protocol,” explains Derek. “The problems we’ve had lately are cause for concern. Beacon Hills is home to a lot of natural, magical energy, and it takes a strong pack to keep things calm.”

Peter jumps in. “Obviously there have been circumstances beyond our control,” he glares at the Argents. Allison and Chris make identical faces at him. They’re trying and Peter likes to rub their noses in the actions of Kate and Gerard far more often than necessary. Stiles and Derek both sigh in exasperation. Peter continues. “But they’d be likely to come anyway.”

“So what do we do?” asks Isaac.

“We come up with a plan for one.” Derek takes back the reins of the conversation from Peter. “There are challenges and appropriate behaviors to follow and while we’ve been studying some of that, there are more specifics you’ll need to learn. I thought we’d have more time to get this far. But…”

“But Deucalion has a reputation,” puts in Chris. “He’s notorious for deliberately trying to break packs apart. It’s how his alphas join him or take over more territory.”

John clears his throat and the others turn to look at him. “I know you all have issues with each other. Even those who are family or have years of a relationship between each other are struggling. This Alpha pack does not mean you’re expected to forgive and forget the wrongs against you. It will take time to heal from those things. But you should know that Deucalion will prey on those weaknesses. You all need to decide for yourselves if it’s worth putting aside your issues to deal with this, or if you’d rather back out now and leave to search for another pack or return to a human lifestyle.”

There’s quiet for a few minutes as everyone ponders his words. Then Erica stands up from her seat next to Boyd and walks over to sit on the arm of Allison’s chair. “Better the devil we know,” she says with a dangerous grin.

Everyone else falls in shortly after, and slowly they formulate a plan.

~

Stiles fidgets through the kitchen as everyone leaves, cleaning the counters multiple times, rearranging the few leftovers in the fridge, and generally making what his father calls a nuisance of himself.

After a good twenty minutes of reorganizing the coffee mugs, his father tosses a duffle bag on the counter. “Here. Overnight clothes, toothbrush, and your laptop.”

Stiles looks up confused. “What’s this for?”

“You’re stressed and your coping mechanisms are unlikely to allow me any sleep,” answers John. “Besides, I’m not blind to the fact that you haven’t been sleeping at home on nights when you’re upset for a while now. I’d assumed it was Scott, but I have the feeling that’s not quite accurate.” He inclines his head towards Derek, in case his words weren’t clear.

“And you’re okay with me staying at Derek’s?” It’s not that Stiles wants his dad to change his mind, but it doesn’t seem surprising in light of today’s revelations.

John sighs. “What I would like is for my son to be a 17 year old in a town where the most he has to worry about is who you’ll take to prom or whether a part-time job can pay for gas and a new video game. But we don’t live in a normal town, and the Hale family has nothing to do with how your mother and I chose to raise you. I know things have been wearing on you and I haven’t been able to help.”

“Dad…” protests Stiles.

John waves his hand dismissively. “That’s not...look, kid, there were times when my parents weren’t what I needed, your mother was. I’m not trying to create undue pressure or anything, but right now, Derek seems to be that person for you. I don’t want details, and I expect you to be safe, whatever safe entails depending on the situation, but if Derek’s where you find comfort right now, I won’t take that away.”

Stiles lunges over to hug his dad, noticing the way Derek looks both surprised and vulnerable at the kind words and the display of trust from John. “Thanks Dad.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now go so you can’t complain about me eating those leftover egg rolls.” John hugs back and offers a smile at Derek, sensing that he isn’t quite ready for a hug of his own. Not that John isn’t opposed to giving them.

~

Stiles thinks about talking with Derek at his loft--moved into earlier in the summer--but by the time they get there, both are so exhausted that they just fall into bed. Stiles sprawls out as he always does and Derek tucks himself against Stiles’ side, kisses his temple, and falls asleep with his head on Stiles’ chest.

It takes Stiles a little longer to fall asleep as usual, his brain always awake even when his body is tired. He reflects for a moment on how he and Derek got here. It’s funny he thinks. They’re in a relationship. He knows this, he knows Derek wants to be here too, even if they haven’t had a define the relationship talk. And yet they haven’t even kissed yet, despite sleeping together most nights. Stiles certainly isn’t to anything physical. If he’s being honest, Derek’s been in heavy rotation in his fantasies pretty much since the day the met in the woods. But Derek hasn’t really initiated anything further--for reasons Stiles can guess at but isn’t sure--and for now, Stiles finds that this closeness and ability to depend on each other is enough.

He falls asleep a few minutes later, one arm wrapped around Derek, his cheek pressed against Derek’s hair.

~

They’re woken in the morning by a banging on the loft door and the sound of Lydia’s less than dulcet tones yelling Stiles’ name.

“Stiles Stilinski, I know you’re there. Get up! We’re going to breakfast.”

Stiles groans and rubs his eyes. “Why is she here? How?”

Derek kicks him. “It’s Lydia. Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

He flails his way out from under the blankets, jumps a little at the cold floor--even in summer, the concrete doesn’t retain much warmth--and walks over to the door. “Lydia,” says Stiles. “How did you…”

“Oh please,” says Lydia, cutting him off. “I knew you and Derek were together about a week after it happened. I just didn’t say anything until you were ready.” She holds up a hand when he starts to speak. “I’m aware you aren’t ready to tell everyone else yet. But I need some time with you and I was tired of feigning ignorance.” She pushes her way past him into the loft.

Stiles squawks. “Hey! We might be indecent in here.”

Lydia raises an eyebrow--very much like Derek, weird--at him. “You’re wearing your fish pajama pants. Those are your comfort pjs.”

Stiles gapes at her.

“Scott overshares.”

Stiles can’t help but nod at that and he hears Derek give the most sarcastic grunt ever from the bed.

“Anyway,” she continues. “If you two were having sex, you wouldn’t be able to shut up about it. You’re a bit of a nympho, really, so I think it’s safe to assume the two of you are still feeling things out. Can we go now?”

Stiles thinks about arguing, even goes so far as to open his mouth and thinks better of it. He won’t win. So he turns to go get dressed.

Lydia moves around in the kitchen while he’s getting ready, then walks over with a mug that she hands to Derek as Stiles shoves his wallet in his pocket. “What’s that?” he asks.

“Coffee,” answers Lydia as Derek takes it. “Three tablespoons of cream and two sugar cubes, right?”

Derek nods and sips, his coherency not much better than it was ten minutes ago.

“How did you know that?” asks Stiles.

“Isaac. He says Ms. McCall and Derek are exactly the same in the morning.”

“Totally out of it until they get coffee,” agrees Stiles.

“Thanks,” says Derek.

Lydia nods briskly. “Of course. Stiles?”

He leans over to get a hug from Derek, whispers goodbye, and follows Lydia out the door.

~

Lydia doesn’t talk much on the way to the diner, at least, no more than a few slightly cruder than Stiles expected questions about his and Derek’s relationship, despite her earlier assertion that she didn’t think they were yet having sex. She seems more disappointed that she can’t get the dirt first than all that concerned about the relationship itself. Stiles can’t say he expects any less.

When they reach the diner, the owner, Esther greets them with a smile. The pack has made the diner a habit over the last few months. They eat like wolves--even the fully human members--but they tip well and make an effort to be courteous. As a result, the staff loves them.

“So why the early morning wake up call, Lyds?” asks Stiles once they’ve ordered.

French toast and extra crispy bacon for her; fried eggs, hashbrowns, and pancakes for him.

“Because you’re going to help me figure out what I am,” states Lydia as she evenly shakes powdered sugar over her toast.

Stiles gapes at her, a piece of pancake falling out of his mouth. Lydia taps the bottom of his jaw. “Swallow, then questions.”

He obeys. “What do you mean, what you are? You’re a teenage girl.”

“Clearly not,” returns Lydia, cutting her food into dainty bites. “Teenage girls do not have the ability to create mystical bonds with the dead and they certainly don’t have resurrection powers. Furthermore, teenage girls have two reactions to the bite of a werewolf, they become one or they die. Here I sit, but I retain only one monthly problem, and it doesn’t come with fur and claws.”

“Um, do you have any ideas?”

“You’re the one who loves to research,” says Lydia, just a shade away from patronizing. “I come up with solutions using your research.”

Stiles starts to respond, thinks better of the forkful of egg he put in his mouth and finishes the bite. “I don’t know off the top of my head, but yeah sure let’s research. Why didn’t you just bring this up last night though? Or at Derek’s?”

Lydia looks slightly more worried now. “I don’t know what I am, Stiles. It might be something that just needs training and control, like a werewolf. But if I’m more along the lines of a kanima, I’d rather only a few people remember me like that.”

“You say that you expect to die,” says Stiles, frowning at her.

“If I’m a danger to others,” she begins.

“Uh, no. You are not a danger, you were used by Peter and no matter how much he may have changed, that’s not on you. Jesus, Lyds, no one’s dying.”

Lydia smiles at him. “Fine. No one’s dying. Still, better to have answers than watch the entire pack run around blind. It’s not like we wouldn’t be the only people researching anyway.”

Stiles shoves another bite in his mouth and nods at her. Exactly. All the wrong people in his life try to be martyrs.

“Now enough of that,” says Lydia. “I know you’ve done the assigned reading for the fall semester. Tell me how fast you think we can convince our teacher to speed through Heart of Darkness.”

~

Stiles is just finishing up his breakfast, sopping up the remaining egg yolks with the crusts of his bread when Lydia kicks him under the table. “Ow! What the fu…?”

His voice trails away as she nods slightly towards the door. A trio stand in the doorway, one woman telling Esther how many are in their party, the other woman and a man staring directly at Stiles and Lydia. The man carries himself elegantly, yet tightly wound like a violin. Both women have a sort of lioness grace, though the one not talking to the waitress giggles when the man sniffs the air and inclines his head towards their table.

The giggler leans over to the waitress, asking something that neither Stiles nor Lydia have any hope of making out, and a moment later menus are being placed on the table next to them.

“Mr. Stilinski and Miss Martin, yes?” asks the man. “I’m…”

“Deucalion,” says Lydia briskly, cutting him off.

The woman that Stiles is pretty sure is Kali frowns, but the one he suspects to be Jennifer Blake has a twinkle in her eye. Well, no wolf likes an easy hunt and Stiles hasn’t met many emissaries who don’t love a challenge as well.

“You’ve heard of me,” says Deucalion. It’s not really a question.

“Mmm,” replies Lydia noncommittally. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

Stiles stifles a laugh. “Nor appropriate.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Coming to us? The humans? Hardly proper protocol,” notes Stiles.

“As if you know anything about how we work,” snaps Kali, her claws flashing out, then back in again as Jennifer puts a hand on her arm.

Stiles lets Lydia handle this one. He knows the rules and rituals as much as her, but she’s taken the time to care about it more, and she’s used such knowledge to bring Peter further into the pack, to the point that Derek gave her permission to speak for the pack if the occasion demanded it. Stiles figures this is one of those situations.

“I know how the moon sings in your blood every night, and the way it reaches a crescendo at its peak,” answers Lydia. “There’s a melody in my own these days. I know that it is the wolf, not the human, that demands such respect between packs, for the wolf knows something of elegance long since lost to those who live among stone and steel. I know the bonds of a pack, the way even the most tinuous of threads can become unbreakable sinuous strength when threatened. I may be human, but I am also pack.” Lydia voice grows steely, her temper flaring slightly, though Stiles is the only one who can tell just how furious she is. “Protocol demands that you request an audience with our alpha via the pack negotiator, or if unavailable the pack second. It is a serious affront to approach human members, particularly the way you have chosen to do so.”

Deucalion looks positively intrigued, while Jennifer leans in her seat and stage whispers “Told you” at Kali.

“If I’d seen him, I certainly would have gone to your negotiator,” states Deucalion. There’s still a whisper of condescension in his tone, he underestimates them and Stiles takes not of that. “Peter Hale, right? He’s…”

“Right here,” comes a voice above them. Peter leers down at the alpha pack. “Now, why don’t we have that talk?”

~

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to take so long! Between work and some writers block, I got off track. Hope you like this part though!

Kali would probably be offended by the idea, but Stiles is fairly certain she’s the only one he really understands of the alpha pack so far. She’s straight forward, brutal really, but honest, and he gets that. Kali doesn’t like the hodgepodge nature of their pack and she doesn’t think they understand the life of a wolf, despite Lydia’s earlier words.

Jennifer is hard to read. She seems overly amused by everything, but she doesn’t miss a beat and she seems slightly more into what Deucalion is saying. That fact alone makes Stiles think she cares more about Kali’s opinion.

Deucalion postures just as much as Peter, but there’s something deadly there too. If anything, he reminds Stiles of Lydia, and the way she’ll play the high school game but destroy you if you cross her.

There’s definitely another alpha outside, standing guard in the parking lot, but other than cataloguing his face, Stiles figures if he’s not important enough for this meeting, he’s not important enough to care about any other time.

He pays attention, but doesn’t join the conversation. For all that Peter, Lydia, and Derek are working things out between them, Peter holds the position of pack negotiator and no matter what position Stiles ultimately takes in the pack, he has to know when to defer. In addition, Peter welcomed Lydia into the negotiations from the moment he sat down, and she’s more than holding her own.

It takes another hour for these early deliberations to finish, and then Stiles is leading the way to the car so they can update Derek.

~

Stiles leads the way up to Derek’s apartment, deliberately making enough noise that Derek will see there are others with him.

“What happened?” demands Derek, running his hands over Stiles’ arms in visible concern. He looks to Lydia and Peter too, who aren’t subtle as they roll their eyes at each other.

“Deucalion came to the diner,” answers Stiles.

Derek snarls.

“Don’t worry, dear nephew,” says Peter, pushing past to open the apartment door. “Lydia took control until I could get there.”

“And?”

Stiles moves to get a glass of water while Derek paces and answers before Peter can continue to antagonize everyone in the room. “We worked out the first challenge. It won’t be easy, especially with our pack.”

Derek’s eyebrows raise in question and Stiles is again jealous of said ability.

“They want a formal dinner to introduce all members of the two packs and observe our knowledge of pack hierarchy, protocol, and respect. It’s like they know us,” finishes Stiles, shaking his head.

“Well of course they do,” replies Peter. “Why else do you think they appeared at the diner to intimidate the two lowly human members of the pack?”

“Lowly?!” snaps Stiles and Lydia at the same time.

“I’ve made a point to keep the details of my return from the dead hidden,” he explains. “And my sister was always known for having secrets. No doubt Deucalion and Kali suspect devious means, but they are too…”

“Pureblood?” jokes Stiles.

“For lack of a better term, yes. The idea that a human could matter is unthinkable to them. With the exception of hunters. Thus they would have no reason to seek out either Argent. The other parents are tenuously connected for the time being and certainly unable to discern the clear insult the alphas were giving. However, even I had no idea that you, Stiles, came from a hunter line, and since you say your mother’s family didn’t deal in werewolves, I see no reason Deucalion would.”

Stiles sighs and sinks onto the couch next to Derek. “Not that any of this helps our current situation.”

Lydia pokes him with her heel. “So we study. We have two days. We’ll research and learn from Peter and Derek and practice until we have the protocol down pat. Every member of this pack has their own strengths. We need to enhance those while correcting our flaws. I do not lose, Stiles Stilinski. I’m not starting now.”

Derek grins, that sort of rare blend between proud and dangerous he sometimes gets. Stiles thinks privately that Lydia and Derek have the same look. Maybe there is hope.

“So we should call the pack?” he asks. “Make a plan?”

“Lydia and Peter can do that,” says Derek. “You and I are going to the preserve to meet Allison and Chris.”

“For?”

“Hunter training.”

“I’m not sure I want to be a hunter again,” Stiles says in reminder. “Deaton was going to train me as an emissary anyway.”

“You can’t do both?” questions Lydia.

Stiles shrugs. “It’s more about whether I want to.”

Derek’s grabbing his keys as they speak and his jacket. “I think it would still be good for you to brush up on your skills. Especially with the alpha pack in town.”

“I really think I’ll be okay,” protests Stiles as he follows Derek out the door.

Derek turns and catches Stiles’ arm, stopping him as he walks. Stiles looks up at him, surprised, as Derek cups Stiles’ face in his hands. “Humor me? Please? I’ve only seen that brief display at target practice. I just want to know that you’ll be safe when I’m not around.”

Stiles wisely bites his tongue over the fact that Derek’s presence has put him in danger multiple times over the last year. He knows it’s not Derek’s fault anyway, and even a joke along those lines would cause Derek to start blaming himself. And Stiles isn’t interested in Derek pulling a martyr routine and pushing him away. “Okay,” he says. “But I reserve the right to choose my own weapons after today.”

~

Chris has a full arsenal ready to go in the preserve, even a training mat is set up on level ground for what Stiles assumes is to assess his hand to hand combat abilities. That he’s especially looking forward to. Hiding his skills and letting Gerard overpower him took no small amount of talent. The chance to let loose holds a high appeal.

They start with guns though, and Chris’ position as a licensed arms dealer means he has an extensive variety to choose from.

Stiles looks over the selection. Allison is there with her bow at her side. He can tell by the look on her face that her feelings are conflicted about the reveal of his talents and Stiles can’t really blame her. He got the upbringing she was entitled to, he’s trained in more weapons and mythology than she is, and he suspects that Chris is showing too much excitement over his hunter status.

“I prefer not to use small arms,” says Stiles immediately, skipping over half the table.

“Can you use them?” asks Chris.

Stiles supposes that is the point of this, whether he can, not whether he will. “Yes,” he answers shortly, picking up a Glock 9mm, and firing several successive shots into the appropriate target. They hit in the general bullseye area. “I’m most comfortable with police force weapons,” notes Stiles, “for obvious reasons. But handguns don’t do much good in a supernatural fight. If you’re that close, you need different weapons. At least the kind of hunting my family did,” he amends, remembering that a wolfsbane bullet fired at close range would probably do plenty of damage to a werewolf.

Chris nods and moves on. Stiles gives a brief repeat demonstration of his skill with a couple sniper rifles--those are the type of gun he prefers anyway--and dismisses the use of crossbows or other archer weapons altogether. “I never learned archery,” he says. He can see Derek’s eyebrow arch at the clear tell in his heartbeat, but his face doesn’t betray the lie.

Stiles does notice Allison visibly relax after that however, and he knows he made the right decision to leave archery to her.

It’s the knife work that really gets Stiles excited. He spins a couple blades in his hands, knowing there’s a dangerous grin on his lips.

“You seem comfortable with those,” observes Allison.

Stiles nods, flicks a blade into a nearby tree with perfect precision. “Blades are one of the best tools against demons. You can spell a dagger with Latin, Gaelic, Mandarin, really any language necessary for the particular demon. The right metal can cause damage enough on it’s own, but most can be bonded with other materials as well.” He picks up a series of small blades and throws them in quick succession at a target. “For example, a dagger made with iron can be bonded with pure salt, making it useful in fighting demons with fae blood.”

Derek is listening and retrieving knives as Stiles speaks, his attention clearly focused, though he doesn’t join in the conversation, leaving it instead to Stiles and the Argents.

“You’ve hunted the fae?” questions Chris.

Stiles shakes his head vigorously. “You don’t hunt the fae. Period. But some of the older demons have fae bloodlines, from the days when they could roam the earth freely, and so iron is useful.”

“Have you met many other hunter families?” Allison plays with her own set of knives, practicing along with Stiles.

“A few. Most hunters tend to be well known names among each other and their enemies, but lesser known elsewhere.” He debates picking up a set of throwing stars before remembering that Allison prefers the weapon and moves on. “Or like witch hunters tend to keep a pretty low profile.”

Allison pauses in her practice. “But witch hunts are some of the most famous and well-documented hunts in history.”

“Yeah, but those weren’t carried out by hunters and they didn’t kill real witches. It takes serious skill, fearlessness, and no small amount of recklessness to go after a witch. The good ones aren’t worth making an enemy of and the truly evil ones have a lot of power. Public witch hunts are just examples of ignorance and prejudice.” Stiles sets the last of the knives down and moves to the training mat, practicing basic fighting stances to limber up. He plans to ask Chris to fight, so Allison can study his moves and be at less of a disadvantage. Derek he knows would go to easy on him. “Besides, witch hunters are always witches themselves. They have a we take care of our own kind of mentality.”

“What about other demon hunters?” asks Chris. “I’d like to know more about fighting demons.”

“Like the Winchesters?” says Stiles, twisting his body into a backflip and landing in a defensive crouch. He motions a request for Chris to join him.

Chris passes his guns to Allison and faces Stiles. “Very funny. We all know the Winchesters aren’t real.” He moves into a traditional muay thai stance, then goes on the attack.

Stiles responds smoothly, pushing Chris back into a starting position. “The Winchesters are the best cautionary hunting tale I know. That show is their cover story. No one believes the family is real, and they’re able to fight greater battles than most of us will ever face.” He moves offensively now, fighting against Chris.

“But believe me when I say that they wouldn’t wish their lives on anyone and no one should strive to be them.”

“The stories about them say they’ve been to hell,” scoffs Allison from the sidelines.

“Peter came back from the dead,” returns Stiles, “and he only used some wolfsbane and a teenage girl to do it. The Winchesters run in circles with angels and devils. I wouldn’t put anything past them.”

Chris nearly catches him off guard, so Stiles focuses on the fight until he’s clearly won. Chris is a good fighter but Stiles can tell that Chris was trained in other disciplines, as he adapted to Stiles’ fighting style rather than matching it.

“Don’t borrow enemies,” he cautions. “We have werewolves to deal with. I’d rather not invite demons into the mix.”

That seems enough to end the conversation. The rest of the afternoon is spent practicing different fighting techniques. Even Derek joins in at one point, though Stiles was right that he would go easy on him. Once Chris and Derek seem satisfied, they separate to go home and reconvene at the evening pack meeting, where everyone will be updated on the alphas’ challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd add a note to cover several questions at once (and hopefully cover for anyone who later reads this and wonders the same thing). I don't watch Supernatural. I've tried several times and I just can't get into it. So what I know about the Winchesters comes solely from tumblr and my SPN obsessed friends. But I know that whenever hunter!Stiles comes into play, a lot of people want the Winchesters brought in. This was essentially my way of referencing them and then never bringing them up again.  
> Claudia's last name won't come up in this installment of the series, but I think you'll like the family line I bring in for that anyway. Particularly how I plan to tie it into another fandom. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than I intended. Hope you like it!

“I have the feeling this is going to be a disaster,” mutters Stiles as his dad parks the car in front of the McCalls. Their formal dining room is the pack’s practice spot for the alpha pack dinner.

“Probably,” replies John, far too cheerfully in Stiles’ opinion. “But we can try to minimize the fall out and maybe this will clarify which pack areas of improvement need to take priority.”

“How did you get so smart?”

“Curly fries.”  
Stiles rolls his eyes and John makes a face at him. He’s still not getting curly fries.

When they get inside, everyone is essentially in the living room or hallway and the fidgeting and discomfort is obvious. “So how do we do this?” asks Allison.

Peter immediately launches into a lecture on proper protocol. John steps around Boyd and Isaac to show Derek a piece of paper. Stiles watches as Derek reads it over with a bit of surprise, then looks at JOhn and nods. He steps forward and takes command of the room. “Thank you, Peter. We’re going to do this first round a little differently though. I will be sitting at the head of the table. I want each of you to come in where you think your standing in the pack is.”

Peter noticeably grimaces.

Chris raises a tentative hand. “Standing or position?”

“Standing,” clarifies Derek.

“You wanna clarify that for the rest of us?” asks Stiles.

Derek nods. “Position is your title. Pack enforcer, second, negotiator, etc. Those don’t change. Standing is how I see you and is flexible depending on the current state of the pack.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” asks Scott. Stiles can’t help but wonder the same thing.

“It will be messy. But John thinks and I agree that it will also give us a way to see and work through some of our biggest issues. We aren’t great at talking around here and we need to bring some of these things out in the open if we’re going to fix them. But for now we don’t have much time so let’s begin.” He nods at the room and goes to sit at the dining table.

Peter and Scott immediately follow, both elbowing at each other to go through the door. Stiles rolls his eyes at Lydia. He’s fairly certain that Peter is being deliberately obtuse and that Scott, genuine puppy that he is, doesn’t realize that even though he and Derek are getting along, Derek’s still working through his feelings about Scott’s betrayal. Boyd and Erica hang back, pushing Isaac in ahead of them. Lydia follows Boyd and Erica.

Jackson turns and holds an arm out to Stiles.

“What?”

Jackson frowns. “I’m going to escort you.”

“Why?”  
“Because I may not be Lydia level genius but I still have the fourth highest gpa in our class. Trust me. I have a feeling about this.”

“Okay,” agrees Stiles, and they enter.

Chris then Allison come after the primary pack members, then Melissa McCall is ushered in by Sheriff Stilinski, though Stiles bets that’s not for protocol reasons but simply his dad being a gentleman.

Once inside, Derek looks at his pack. “Now tell me why you came in the way you did. Because with the exception of Lydia, partly Jackson, and partly Scott, you’re all wrong.”

Peter scoffs. “I think you forgot to note that I was correct. I am pack negotiator. Not to mention your family.”

Derek glares at him. “Yes, and I’d have another family member left if you hadn’t killed Laura. Then there’s the using Lydia to bring yourself back from the dead, tormenting Stiles, biting and harassing Scott, I could go on. You’re pack negotiator because you know the nuances of pack politics. Don’t mistake that for trust.”

Peter looks decidedly put out about that but he subsides. Derek continues down the line. Scott felt that he and Derek were on good enough terms that his status as second would keep him high ranking. Boyd and Erica felt that as Derek’s betas, they should follow Scott and Peter, but figured Isaac had better standing. Lydia’s explanation was that she might be human or something, but she’s still pack, and she deserved to come in before the parents or hunter family member. The hunter and parental units just went with a best guess.

“Lydia is correct that she is the last of the core pack to come in,” begins Derek, “but Allison should come in at the same time.”

“I should?”

“Yes. You’re an allied hunter of the Hale pack, but you’re also a member of this pack, Allison. I want the alphas to know this. Similarly, Boyd, Erica, and Isaac, you three should enter together as you are all equal both in status and in my eyes.” At the sight of tears in Erica’s eyes and Boyd trying to look more stoic than usual, Derek walks over and pulls both teens into a tight hug. “You were scared,” he says softly. “I get that. I don’t fault you for lashing out at me. And at the end of the day, you still stayed. That holds the most merit with me.”

According to Derek, the parents will bring up the end, but should come in right behind each other in the order of John, Melissa, Chris, rather than next to each other like his betas.

“Why was Jackson partly right?” asks Scott once Jackson and Stiles are the only two left who need to explain.

Jackson leans in and whispers something too low for anyone but Derek to catch in Stiles’ ear. Stiles’ eyes widen and he pulls back to look at Jackson. “Seriously?!” he hisses.

“Sorry,” returns Jackson.

“Stiles,” calls Derek from where he’s leaning against the table. “Jackson’s right. But we can go a different way.”

Stiles sighs. “Nah. We knew this would happen. And I’d rather say something here than take the chance of Deucalion or Kali using it to cause division.” He’s not exactly thrilled, but it is what it is.

Derek nods at Jackson to continue.

“I don’t know where I belong,” begins Jackson, “but I know that because of Stiles’ relationship with Derek, he is to be escorted by another member of the pack. It shows that the member is not only valued by the Alpha, but by the betas as well.”

“Relationship?!” chorus several voice at once.

Stiles exchanges another series of looks with Derek and then Derek addresses the pack. “Yes, Stiles and I are in a relationship. It’s very early stages, we’re both trying to work through things slowly, but consider us together.”

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t trust us enough to just tell us that,” mutters Isaac.

“You’re dating Derek?!” snaps Scott at Stiles. “We tell each other everything and you kept that a secret.”

“Why would anyone tell you anything?!” yells Erica. “You’d just go find an Argent to blab too and betray us all.”

“I’m not my grandfather!” returns Allison.

“Says the girl who shot me full of arrows,” mutters Boyd.

Allison looks appropriately chastened but still angry and she keeps arguing with Erica and Scott’s yelling at her and Stiles in turn while Boyd, Isaac, and Jackson keep going in Stiles’ and Erica’s defense. The shouting match continue for a couple more minutes until the sound of a large crack reaches their ears.

Everyone turns to see Melissa glaring, her hands in fists on the tabletop. “Enough! Now I understand that you all have things you’re upset about. We will deal with them calmly and as adults. It’s time you all started practicing adulthood anyway.” She looks directly at Derek. “I understand the concept of your idea. We did that. Now tell everyone the right order. Then you are all going to go outside and fight off some of this excess anger. I am going to have a nice calming drink with John and Chris, then we will order pizzas to be delivered and we will all sit down and work through these issues. Understood?”

“Melissa,” begins Derek.

“Understood.” She says more firmly, not as a question this time. Derek nods. “Got it.”

“Good then.”

Everyone else stays quiet as Derek explains the proper order, then they file outside. It will go Derek, Scott as pack second and the wolf Derek still feels a close connection to, even if it isn’t reciprocated. Stiles is then escorted by Jackson, who as first beta is given a higher position. Rather than the usual cocky Jackson reaction, he gives a hint of a smile, like he’s pleased and touched. The rest of the betas are to follow, Allison and Lydia next, then Peter rounding out the core pack. Peter grumbles a little about not being appropriately valued but another glare from Melissa keeps him quiet.

~

“Think we’ll live through this?” asks Melissa as she pours a generous glass of whiskey for each of the adults. Minus Peter who went out with the pack.

“If they can figure out how to trust each other absolutely,” says John. “And that in itself is the problem.”

Chris downs his drink in one steady swallow. “If they can pretend to trust each other and set aside their problems while the alphas are here, we may at least get through the next couple months. Then they can all figure out long-term solutions.”

Melissa and John ponder that. “We’re gonna need more whiskey.”

~

The pack that shuffles in forty-five minutes later is distinctively subdued, and there are a few healing bruises and traces of dirt and leaves still in Erica and Allison’s hair, but they enter calmly in the correct order and politely thank Melissa for ordering pizza and setting up the table for dinner.

Derek and Peter take the lead through dinner, explaining details about what they might expect from the alphas, what sort of things are better to study. As bitten wolves or humans, and all new to pack standards, they’re allowed some leeway, but they need to be showing an effort. Stiles and Lydia both chime in to answer questions from time to time. Lydia has a stellar memory so she fills in blanks when Derek or Peter can’t remember the exact wording from the werewolf protocol files on Peter’s computer. Stiles focuses more on his observations of the trio that ambushed them at breakfast, the way Kali seems more brutal and less political, how Deucalion seems to relish causing problems just to see the fallout while Jennifer seems equally likely to stir up trouble, but that she gave Stiles the impression that she pays close attention to reactions and resolutions.

Then it’s time to work through the actual issues.

Hardly anyone trusts Scott, though that’s been improving. Still, even Stiles admits that the fact that Scott would work with Gerard instead of even asking anyone else to keep his mom safe doesn’t sit well. There’s the lingering concern that if a situation came up, Scott would side with hunters over his pack.

Boyd even comments that the only reason he’s beginning to trust Scott again is that Allison seems genuinely remorseful and he’s more willing to trust that as long as she’s on their side, so is Scott.

That in turn brings up Erica’s issues, namely that she doesn’t trust Allison and is somewhat angry at Boyd for being willing to try.

Allison for her part is understanding and apologetic, but she’s pissed that they keep blaming her for Gerard and Kate’s actions. Let her take responsibility for her wrongs, she insists and leave the evils of her dead family members in their graves. When Derek agrees with her, Erica (and Isaac who was staunchly on Erica’s side) agree to work on that, and it seems a truce is reached.

Not everything is solved so easily, but eventually all their issues are on the table. From there, they work on not reacting to incendiary statements.

They agree they’re ready when John deliberately makes a comment about Gerard in a derogatory way, just like the alphas might and while Chris looks upset, Allison calmly deflects the question and then turns to Erica and ask if she has recommendations for a good manicurist.

 

~

Scott pulls Stiles aside as the others leave, tugging him towards the back bedrooms. If the other werewolves tried they could hear them, but the gesture indicates a desire for privacy.

“What’s up, bro?” asks Stiles. He suspects he knows what Scott wants to talk about.

“So you and Derek…” begins Scott and ‘bingo’ thinks Stiles.

“Me and Derek,” he answers. He doesn’t like Scott’s tone.

Scott hesitates like he isn’t quite sure how to approach the subject. “Be careful, okay. I just want to make sure that you’re sure about this. Derek’s…”

“Derek’s kind?” suggest Stiles, a small amount of bitterness and anger in his voice. “Loyal? Dependable? Cares about me? Looks out for me while letting me take care of myself? Knows how I like my coffee?”

Scott gapes at him. “Duh. I meant that Derek’s vulnerable. And I know I had a lot to do with that and I’m still sorry I didn’t trust him with Gerard, but he doesn’t deserve to get hurt either.”

That Stiles definitely was not expecting. “I’m not going to hurt Derek,” he says slowly.

Scott shuffles his feet and talks low. “I’m not saying you’ll mean to. But dude, you’ve been hung up on Lydia for a really long time. And Derek seems like the type to commit as hardcore as you do. I just…”

“I’m all in,” says Stiles, cutting Scott off.

“You’re sure?” asks Scott, brightening a little.

Stiles nods. “Positive. I’m not saying we’re at a point of talking about it yet, but this isn’t a fling for me, and I would never treat Derek so callously even if a short-term relationship was all I wanted anyway. I promise, both our hearts are safe.”

Scott beams at him. “Awesome. So do you still pop a boner whenever he flashes his alpha eyes?” He says the last part extra loud.

Stiles punches Scott’s arm before wrapping him in a headlock as they head back to the entryway. “You’re evil, and I will be shopping for a new best friend,” he threatens through his laughter.

~

The next day as Peter and Lydia take charge of walking the pack through more protocols and policies, Derek and Stiles head out to the preserve to meet with Marin Morell. “And you’re sure you want Morell over Deaton?” questions Derek as they park the car. Morell’s car is in the parking lot of the small outlook, but she’s near the edge of the viewpoint.

“Yeah. I’d like to believe Deaton is on our side, but I only ever really feel like he’s on Scott’s side. For all his talk about promises to your mom, he’s done a shitty job of protecting your family.” Stiles pulls his jacket on over his flannel and reaches down to grab the few magical supplies that he owns from the floorboard. “I think Morell plays the winning side, but that she’ll teach me enough to fight my own battles.”

“You’ll be cautious though?”

“Always,” promises Stiles. They exit and walk over to join her. “Ms. Morell?” begins Stiles.

“Please, call me Marin.”

“Marin,” corrects Stiles. “Thanks for agreeing to teach me.”

“You’re quite welcome. Now, tell me Stiles, do you come to me because you want to learn the ways of a druid or because you simply don’t trust my brother to teach you to be an emissary?” There’s a hint of a devilish twinkle in her eyes, like she knows the answer, but her voice is as calm as ever.

“I thought emissaries and druids were the same.”

“Not quite. Many of the spells and methods to manipulate the earth’s magic are the same, but a druid is unaffiliated with a pack. As a druid, I’m free to move about at my leisure, without being bound to the will of an alpha. However, I cannot fully tap into the earth’s magic. I’m limited to natural magic that isn’t tied to supernatural creatures.” Marin moves a hand through the air as she speaks, like she’s conducting a symphony, and the trees sway and the wind blows gently as her movements continue. “An emissary must hope for a good and fair alpha, and their magic can be called upon to be used in ways they don’t always agree with. But emissaries can deal in far greater magic, with a good deal more power. Were Talia still with us, my brother Deaton wouldn’t be able to be so ambiguous when dealing with you, Derek.”

“Brother?” asks Stiles.

“Brother in our druidic order. Emissary or druid, we all belong to a specific order.” She takes Stiles’ hand in hers and moves it through the same conducting pattern she’s been repeating. “Focus on the melody my hands create. As they move, so do the trees.”

Stiles focuses. He tends to be more practical, less sensitive to feeling out possibilities than a trial and error method, but he wants to learn. Slowly he can begin to sense the same, hearing a song in the air, one that the forest knows and wants to teach him. “Oh!” he exclaims.

Marin smiles. “Very good. Now see if you can get the trees to sing a specific tune. Keep the underlying message simple. More of a concept than any specific directive.”

It takes about twenty minutes, but when Stiles tries pushing his own feelings of home into the woods, rather than telling the trees what he wants, the tune changes to one of comfort and family, a sense of contentment. “That’s incredible,” breathes Stiles.

“Indeed. That’s the work of a druid. A small concept in general, but still useful. Derek, did you hear it?”

Derek nods. “It sounded like home.”

“That was it!” beams Stiles.

“You won’t be able to master this yet,” says Marin, “but for the rest of the week I want you to work on two things. First, getting the trees to sing for you. Then try to get them to send a message just to Derek, one that only he can hear.”

“I can do that?”

“An emissary can. You may not have chosen a path yet, but you have a spark and are a member of a pack. This small bit of magic should be doable without choosing a loyalty.” Marin waves a hand and the woods fall still. “An emissary would be able to send a message to his pack using nature, without being overheard by others. Your homework so to speak, is to figure out how. And know that there isn’t just one way. Find the method that works for you.”

Stiles thanks her, as does Derek, and after a moment more of polite conversation, they part ways to return to the pack and prepare for the alphas.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I'm so insanely sorry this took so long. I did not intend for it too. Life and writer's block and other plot bunnies and a bit of general laziness got in the way.
> 
> 2) This marks sort of the end of setting things up and brings us fully into the action. I'm so excited for some of the stuff coming up.

John looks weary when Stiles comes downstairs the morning of the alpha dinner. There are police reports in front of him and the coffee pot is nearly empty, telling Stiles that his dad has been up for a while now.

“What’s going on?” he asks as he refills his dad’s mug and starts brewing a fresh pot. Stiles pulls some veggies, eggs, and cheese out of the fridge to mix up a scramble as well.

“You know that thing where you are aware of certain police cases but obviously never heard it from me?”

Stiles nods. “Of course, I’m sure Mr. Altin down at the diner mentioned something. Or it could have been Mrs. Carter. I can’t really remember.” He gives his father a pointed look, since these excuses have been well-rehearsed over the years and more so since they let him in on the supernatural side of things.

As his dad pulls his thoughts together--the switch from Sheriff mode to a combination of Dad/Sheriff always takes him a minute--Stiles chops up tomatoes, onions, and peppers and tosses them in with the cooking eggs. The beauty of having Derek around a lot (well more than the obvious) is that he’s just as interested in healthy meals as Stiles is, but he insists on fresh and organic, and has taught Stiles a few easy tricks instead of his usual tendency to buy frozen dinners.

He has plates in front of them with toast and coffee refills before John starts explaining. “Three bodies were found last night and this morning.”

“Supernatural?” Stiles shakes his head. “Of course you suspect supernatural. If you didn’t, you’d tell me it’s police business and to stay out of it. Animal attack lookalikes?”

“No.” John takes a few bites of his breakfast and pushes over pictures of the crime scenes. “Each victim has bruising near the temple, indicative of being knocked out when taken. Next is strangulation in the exact same place along the throat, followed by a clean cut across the front. It’s almost…”

“Ritualistic,” finishes Stiles. “You think they’re sacrifices?”

“I think they’re more than a run of the mill serial killer, especially since nothing is run of the mill in this town. Can you run it by Chris and Derek? See if they know of anything?”

“Of course,” agrees Stiles. Without much more information, the conversation quickly turns to tonight’s dinner, and then Stiles heads upstairs to get his things and meet the others at the McCall house.

~

Dinner is...well awkward is probably the nicest description Stiles thinks he could give. The entrances and introductions are handled perfectly according to protocol. Rules state that only the alphas, seconds, emissaries, and negotiators can speak without being spoken to first. As he hasn’t made official claim to being the Hale emissary, he’s left off the list, and as usual, staying quiet isn’t easy.

Not that the rest of the pack isn’t suffering. Lydia had made an initial fuss about the rules until Peter handed her the book explaining the reasonings. Initial dinners between packs are usually about negotiations, many of which can be easily ruined by arguments. With the alpha pack and the upcoming challenges, it’s important that they minimize potential problems.

Stiles doesn’t really like it either, but he knows how important it is for Derek to live up to his mother’s legacy, so he’s being as respectful as he can.

It doesn’t help however, that Deucalion and Kali deliberately pick at any open wound they can find, bringing up the kanima, Allison going after the pack, Kate, and any other insults they seem to think of.

Things come to a head when Deucalion brings not only Allison, but Chris into the conversation as well. “Tell me Argents, how do you sit in the same room as the man who killed your beloved sister and aunt, as well as the man who instigated your mother’s and wife’s death?”

There’s a slightly audible gasp from Melissa and Ethan and even Kali looks like she finds the reference in poor taste. The questions until this point were rude, but clearly designed to see how the pack had come together. This is deliberate baiting from Deucalion.

Chris’ knuckles turn white against his chair.

“I think…” begins Derek, clearly trying to prevent as much collateral damage as possible.

Deucalion swiftly cuts him off. “The question was directed at Chris and Allison Argent. Do you not trust your packmates to answer?”

Derek subsides unhappily.

Allison smiles sweetly at Deucalion, the sort of way that still makes Isaac flinch and Stiles pay close attention. “It seems you are misinformed on a number of accounts. But I suppose we make do the same way you do.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The rest of the room is silent, none of the Hale pack knowing where Allison’s going with this.

“Your mate was the twin sister to your current emissary. Julia, right? At least until she went insane and power hungry and tried to kill you and your pack. Tell me Alpha Deucalion, how do you sit beside the spitting image of the woman you loved without seeing her as she died, her throat ripped out by your hands?”

Deucalion roars and lunges across the table at Allison. Stiles flings mountain ash between them as fast as he can while Kali and Ennis grab Deucalion and manage to get him calm. Chris and Derek are both watching, clearly on edge and afraid of what may come next. Peter has his ‘so turned on face’ on and Jennifer is ignoring Deucalion completely to keep her gaze on Allison and Stiles, assessing the two of them.

It takes another few minutes for things to calm down and there’s a tense sort of quiet while Melissa, John, and Chris clear the plates. Ethan of the twins had stood to help but sat back down when Deucalion issued a low growl his way. With Deucalion’s baiting and taunting halted for the time being, the conversation dies away and it’s not until everyone’s halfway through dessert that anyone speaks again.

Scott pokes Derek first and nods towards Peter, which causes Derek to nod back, and then Peter takes his time licking the last bit of chocolate cake from his fork before turning to Deucalion. “I believe we should discuss the terms of the next challenge.”

“Indeed,” replies Deucalion. “The next will be a tracking challenge, to see how your pack hunts together. A truly bonded pack is one with the man and the wolf after all.”

“Of course,” agrees Peter smoothly.

“Each member of your pack is to leave a personal item with their scent on it with Ennis. My pack will mask the scent--though we will not remove it--and hide it on your territory. You must find the items as a pack.”

“I assume there will be obstacles?”

“One could hardly call it a challenge if there were not.”

“And all pack members must be together upon the finding of each object?”

Deucalion raises an expressive eyebrow. “Is there a problem with this? I was under the impression we just spent this lovely dinner demonstrating your close  bond with one another.”

Peter inclines his head in a seemingly demure, but truly condescending method. “We have a rather mixed pack as you’ve seen. Some of our human members have jobs that require flexibility, while our younger packmates have school.”

“You must have a minimum of four packmates to find an object,” states Jennifer lazily from where she’s been feeding Kali bites of cake. “Two must be wolves.”

“Is this one of my rules?” questions Deucalion, a sharpness in his tone.

“Tradition states that a wolf pack worthy of an Alpha pack visit must have an alpha and at least three betas,” explains Jennifer. “Therefore a larger pack may hunt with a condensed number of packmates if necessary or desired.” Her tone is still calm and lazy but her eyes hold Deucalion’s gaze.

Stiles watches the exchange carefully, as he’s sure the rest of his pack is doing, noting the power balance between the two. Deucalion may be in charge and he clearly doesn’t care for Jennifer arguing with him, but unlike the twins or Ennis, he doesn’t dismiss her comments. There’s a wariness there that tells Stiles to keep an eye out for Jennifer. He resolves to see what he can learn about her later.

“Agreed,” says Deucalion after a long moment. “You have two weeks to prepare,” he adds, directing the final instruction at Derek rather than Peter.

“Understood,” answers Derek.

Stiles expects a return to the awkward conversation or silence from before, but the issuing of the next challenge seems to indicate an end to the evening, as Deucalion from the table. As practiced, Derek rises in answer, then Kali and Scott as the respective Seconds stand simultaneously. “We thank you for gracing us with your attendance,” says Scott.

“As we thank you for your hospitality,” replies Kali.

Deucalion and Derek bow towards each other, then Deucalion leaves on Kali’s arm, followed by the rest of his pack.

Derek sits once he can no longer hear any of the alphas, thus knowing they’re out of hearing range. He heaves a sigh of relief and reaches over to take Stiles’ hand.

“Well that went as well as could be expected I guess,” says Stiles.

“I honestly expected more bloodshed,” jokes John.

“Nah, I left my daggers at home,” returns Allison.

Erica and Isaac both snicker and the last of the tension dissipates, leaving the pack relaxed and comfortable once more.

~

“So did just your mom teach you all this stuff or your dad too?” asks Allison as she parries with Stiles. The tracking challenge--or scavenger hunt as Lydia insists on calling it--is still about a week away and after the fifth time in an hour that Stiles bounced around Derek’s apartment, Derek called Allison to bring over some weapons to the sub station and dropped Stiles off. He has to admit that the exercise is healthy. He’s pretty sure both Scott and Derek are keeping guard outside, just in case there are any alpha pack ambushes.

“Both,” answers Stiles as he spins his sword down and back up from the left to meet Allison’s. “Well, Mom taught me the sword fighting stuff. Though she was always more into her daggers. You would’ve liked that about her.”

Allison grins and fights him back into a corner with several quick steps. “Are you saying I have addictions to pointy objects?”

Stiles snorts with laughter. “Let’s just assume I followed that comment up with all possible crude entendres.” He attempts to parry again, but it’s clear that Allison’s won this round. “I yield. Again?”

They move back into place and Stiles goes back to his story. “Dad’s family has quite the history of law enforcement, like all the way back before traditional police were even a thing. So he taught me everything I know about guns. I mean, Mom could shoot, she just preferred other weapons.”

“Is that why you want to focus on knives now?” asks Allison. She pauses, as though realizing it’s kind of a personal question. “You don’t have to answer, sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He hesitates. “Not that I really want to dwell on thoughts of my Mom or talk about it with everyone. But with you…”

Allison gives him a sad smile. “Being in the same club makes it easier?”

Stiles nods. “Unfortunately. But yeah, I think focusing on her favorite weapons is a nice way to hold onto her memory. A way to honor it instead of the way I reacted right after she died.”

“It seems like it must be a thing for children of hunters to go into homicidal rages when their mothers die,” notes Allison. “I’m thinking maybe I should try baking now. Victoria was kind of amazing with pastries.”

That seems to be a good place to stop talking and focus on their sword skills. They fight in a sort of companionable silence for another hour or so, until the swords are weary in their arms and they can’t go anymore. When Stiles finally slides down the wall to sit next to Allison, Scott and Derek finally join them, bringing much appreciated bottles of Gatorade and granola bars. The easy quiet continues until they’re all ready to head to home.

~

Upon Stiles’ arrival at his house, he finds a police file on the counter. The note on the top says “I had to go into the station. Usual rules apply. Let me know if you find a link.”

A quick perusal of the files shows him the only connection is that all three victims have a military background. “Soldiers?” he asks of Derek and Allison, both of whom had come in with him and were looking at the files as well. Scott had promised to be home for dinner with his mom and Isaac, so he’d parted ways at the sub station.

“It’s the only connection I see,” says Derek.

“Did we ever figure out the connection between the first three?” asks Allison.

Stiles shakes his head. “I didn’t know two of them. The guy was in college, both girls in high school. I only knew Heather.”

Allison gets up to get some water. “Do you have the other files? Maybe their statement has something?”

“Yeah, in my desk. Hang on.” He dashes upstairs, bringing back both the files and his computer just in case. “Um, not much on the guy. Heather and I hadn’t talked much since we were kids but she was a normal sixteen year old as far as I knew.” He flips through to the last file. “And um looks like the other girl was Emily. According to her girlfriend Caitlin, they were out in the woods trying to get some alone time for a special night.”

Allison hums to herself and Derek shrugs at Stiles’ questioning look, not sure where she’s going with this either. “Was Heather dating anyone?”

“Not according to facebook,” answers Stiles.

“What are you thinking?” asks Derek.

“Soldiers,” mutters Allison. “Or fighters?”

“Warriors?” offers Derek.

Allison’s eyes light up and she slaps the table. “That’s it! Warriors! ANd I bet anything the first three were all virgins.” She grabs Stiles’ computer and pulls up the Beastiary loaded on it, searching quickly. “There!” Allison spins the computer to face both Stiles and Derek.

“The five-fold knot?” Stiles reads quickly. “So how do we figure out who’s next?”

“And how do we stop them?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3) Julia and Jennifer are different people. Just want to make that clear. I'm pulling elements of canon into the story, but doing things my way so I'd hesitate to predict things based on how they happen on the show.


	6. Chapter 6

“This feels weird,” comments Derek. Stiles has their hands linked together as they walk through downtown Beacon Hills, headed towards A Cupcake Paradise. They’d been training earlier, doing capture the flag style drills with the pack to work out scent obstacles and tracking. As usual, Derek had a craving for something sweet at the end, and Stiles was in the mood for cupcakes.

“Weird how?” asks Stiles now.

“Going on an almost normal date. Are you sure we should be taking the time for this when we could be strategizing? We can always just pick up some store cupcakes or ice cream or something.”

Stiles frowns. “Do you not want to date me?”  
Derek stops them and turns to face Stiles directly, vigorously shaking his head. “No, that’s not it at all. I just…”

Stiles gets it now. “You think you don’t deserve normal. That if we are spending time acting like normal boyfriends, something is going to go wrong, because that’s our lives.”

“Well...yeah.”

“Please tell me you realize how stupid that sounds.”

“Yes, I do. But you can’t tell me its not a valid point.”

“Its not a valid point! C’mon, Derek, we can’t not live our lives. We live in a city that is a literal supernatural beacon. I come from a family of demon hunters, you’re the alpha of one of the oldest werewolf packs in history, and I carry druid blood. We’ll probably always have something to deal with that we could make a reason not to do normal stuff. But I refuse. What’s the point of all the rest of it if our lives are always on hold?”

Derek hesitates before answering. “I just...I don’t want to lose you because I wasn’t being vigilant.”

“I get that,” says Stiles. “But this isn’t teenage you. You’re not oblivious to the dangers of the world we live in, none of us are, and we aren’t going to get ourselves killed by going out for dessert.” He leans in and lightly kisses Derek. “I know you’re scared to lose your pack all over again but please don’t push any of us away because of that fear.”

“Okay,” agrees Derek softly. He doesn’t move when Stiles starts to walk though.

“What?”

“I was gonna kiss you again.”

“Oh,” grins Stiles. “Well in that case, cupcakes can wait at least a few minutes.”

~

The morning of the second challenge, Allison, Lydia, and Derek are going through the beastiary, trying to narrow down what Lydia might be. Stiles had convinced Lydia to bring at least a couple others in on her research, because answers were better than ambiguity in this case. They’re sitting at the Stilinski’s dining room table. John left for work about an hour ago, sneaking several strips of bacon out with him while Stiles was preoccupied.

Stiles is working his way through the house, filling it with protective magic. His work with Marin has been good, but not moving as quickly as he’d prefer. John had pointed out that while Stiles does need to practice patience, that their family lineage has a history of mastering the use of runes in both offensive and defensive work and that perhaps Stiles should try that. It’s working so far. Stiles can see actual results, which keeps him from getting too frustrated with the slower nature of Marin’s training.

“Okay,” says Lydia once she refills her coffee. “There has to be a way to narrow this down.”

“You’re right.” Allison pulls a notebook over and turns to a clean page. “Let’s list what we know so far, then we can theorize from there.”

“Immune to a werewolf bite and kanima venom,” offers Derek.

“I was part of bringing Peter back from the dead.”

“You also said you had a weird premonition about one of the five-fold deaths just before we learned about the three soldiers dying,” adds Allison. “Oh, and there was that spell with the leftover kanima venom that Stiles did that didn’t affect you.”

Lydia peruses the list. “Perhaps immunity? What creatures and beings have immunity from the supernatural?”

Derek shakes his head. “But mountain ash still blocks you. And you couldn’t get past Stiles’ runes.”

“Hmm. So shifter immunity but not magical. What other common factors do we have?”

“Um…” starts Allison.

Lydia frowns. “Um what?”  
“The other common factor that I see is death,” she says.

Derek flips through one of the Stilinski beastiaries. “Okay, so you have some sort of connection or control over death, you’re immune to creatures made by magic but not necessarily magic itself, and there’s a little bit of psychic powers going on. That narrows it down quite a bit actually.”

“Really?” asks Lydia. “What did you find?”

They’re momentarily interrupted by Stiles screaming “FUCK YES!” in the background, followed by a “Sorry, Mrs. Rhodes.”

Allison and Derek both snicker.

“Anyway,” insists Lydia.

Derek pushes the beastiary he was looking at over to her. “I think you have fae blood. Probably a sidhe lineage since they deal more in death. I’m just not sure of anything more specific.”

“That makes sense,” says Allison, reading over Lydia’s shoulder. “Actually a lot of sense.”

“Well, that’s something at least,” declares Lydia. “Table this discussion for now though, we need to get out to the preserve and help the rest of the pack.” She gathers up the materials and research and puts it away in Stiles’ self-titled ‘Magical Cabinet of Research’, while Allison clears the dishes from the table. Derek goes to get Stiles and with a quick call to Erica to figure out where the rest of the pack is, they head out.

~

After about three hours of hunting through the Preserve, Stiles draws himself to a stop, forcing Derek, Boyd, and Lydia to stop with him. Allison is technically with them as well, but she’s behind in the trees.

“What?” asks Lydia.

Derek noticeably sniffs the air. “Did you find something?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Something’s off. Have you noticed that we haven’t come across anyone from the alpha pack?”

“I thought that was a good thing,” notes Boyd as he takes advantage of the break to drink some water.

“But no interaction at all?”

“What do you think is going on?” Derek keeps a lookout as he asks, checking their surroundings.

“We’ve only found a couple clues and we’ve been retracing our own steps a lot.”

“So?”  
“So,” continues Stiles, “why? Why are we running the same paths multiple times? It feels like we’re being given the run around on purpose.”

“Derek frowns. “That means the bigger question is why we’re being distracted.”

“I can help with that,” says a voice from the trees and all four startle as Kali appears from the shadows.

Stiles gives Derek a clear ‘how did you not hear that look’.

“I don’t know,” replies Derek to the unspoken question. He tilts his head the way he always does when tracking. “I can’t hear anything.”

“Like Allison?” checks Lydia.

“Like nothing,” says a clearly worried Derek.

Jennifer emerges silently from the forest and stands at Kali’s side. “I’m afraid I’m to blame for that. Nothing against you, but it was imperative that we spoke to you in secret. There’s a spell I set up to keep our conversation private.”

“Cone of silence,” remarks Stiles.

Jennifer grins at him while Kali merely seems annoyed.

“What do you need? And why doesn’t Deucalion ever manage to speak to our Alpha directly?” snaps Lydia.

“We aren’t here with Deucalion’s knowledge,” explains Jennifer. She continues to explain with little urging and Stiles knows he’s not the only one paying very close attention to the story.

“When my sister Julia died, she had indeed gone evil--become a darach is what we call it--but she wasn’t the only one. Deucalion and Julia were both power hungry, they just didn’t want to share. She didn’t trust anyone else, while Deucalion garnered loyalty from displaced alphas and so he was able to be victorious. I was deeply saddened by the loss of my sister, first from the druidic order and second at her actual death.” She pauses and Stiles jumps in.

“Why haven’t you tried to take Deucalion out too?”

Jennifer shrugs. “He wasn’t a problem. At least not that we could see. Duke took on the formation of a new alpha pack, reinstating the trials of new packs and maintaining balance.”

“What changed?” asks Allison, stepping over towards Boyd and shrewdly deducting what Jennifer isn’t saying.

“Beacon Hills. We aren’t supposed to be here.”

Derek frowns. “You don’t need to test me?”

Kali laughs, a cold and slightly dangerous sound. “The son of Talia Hale? No. Your blood and connection to the land give you control. Your pack is a bit of a mess though.”

Derek growls discontentedly but doesn’t actually argue.

“So why are you here?”

“Deucalion wants to wake the Nemeton and absorb its power for his own.”

“Nemeton?” ask three of the Hale pack members.

“An ancient tree, usually connected to a druidic lineage initially that is then tied to the land,” recites Lydia. “The few supernatural sources I’ve read suggest that those tied to it can live substantially longer than most and hold immense power.”

Jennifer nods. “Very astute. Deucalion wants that power and if he gets it, the massacre that would follow would be catastrophic. Deucalion would essentially start a supernatural war.”

“The problem,” interjects Kali, “is that we can’t stop him alone. He’s begun a ritual to bind him to the Nemeton and the energy in Beacon Hills is loyal to its own. Jennifer’s power wouldn’t be of much use.”

Stiles looks at Derek and Allison, all three thinking the same thing. “The five fold knot.”

“You know?” It’s the first time Jennifer has seemed startled.

“We knew what the ritual was. Not who was behind it or why,” answers Stiles.

“Why do you need us?” Allison hops out of her tree and stands by Lydia. “We can’t have much time left to talk without raising suspicion.”

Jennifer nods. “There’s a spell to protect the Nemeton from anyone stealing its power. To put it back in the tree and connect it to the local alpha. THe problem is that we need three emissaries for the spell and an alpha.”

“So you need me,” confirms Stiles.

“Plus one more. Either Marin Morrell or Alan Deaton will suffice.”

“Marin,” says Stiles firmly.

“And the alpha?” questions Lydia.

“Kali can do it if we have to, but it will work better with Derek,” answers Jennifer. “His ties to the land give the spell stability.”

Derek steps forward, closer to Jennifer and Kali, the latter of whom bristles slightly and stands incrementally closer to Jennifer in response. “I’ll discuss it with my pack and get back to you in two days.”

Jennifer nods her acceptance and a moment later the sounds of the forest surround them. Kali points to a hollow log that Allison reaches into and quickly finds a bag with all the pack items they were expected to find. “Take a few minutes to pretend you found these,” she instructs, “and we’ll expect to hear from you in two days time.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lookit! Another chapter in only a matter of days. (If you're just joining us, regular updates are not one of my skills).

It takes a good deal of creatively deceptive talk for them to settle the results of the second challenge with Deucalion, but eventually, the pack is allowed to move along. Derek goes with Scott and Peter to update them on what they learned from Jennifer and Kali. Lydia is spending the rest of her evening doing her homework for the remainder of the semester and Jackson is going with the beta trio to the bowling alley. Stiles is a little bit envious of the bond those four have been forming, but he’s glad they have each other at the same time.

He rode with Derek to the preserve so he walks over to Allison now. “Mind giving me a ride to the station?”

“Sure. Hop in,” says Allison with a smile. “Is your dad working late tonight?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be, but something tells me he is. There’s no way we ran around in circles for hours and Kali felt comfortable talking to us without being caught, unless Deucalion was busy elsewhere. And other than being an offensive prick, the only thing keeping him busy seems to be the murder of innocent people.”  
Allison rolls her eyes. “True. Does it say something really horrible about us that we aren’t running around trying to find Deucalion and guess who’s next?”

Stiles sighs. “Probably. But...I dunno...I want to protect our pack and family members but I kinda feel like trying to take care of the entire town is a little much. And I’m okay with being selfish if it keeps the people I love safe.”

“Good enough for me.”

“Plus lets be real,” admits Stiles, “as soon as Derek tells Scott what we learned, he’ll have us on regular watch shifts around town anyway.”

“He does have a tendency to try to save people,” says Allison, a wistful smile on her face.

“Ugh, stop with the face.”

“What face?”

“The isn’t my boyfriend ever so dreamy face.”

“Excuse me, I am almost an adult and a trained hunter, I do not make that face.”

“Um, yeah you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You could give Bella a run for her money.”  
“I will shoot you in the foot with an arrow made from poison oak.”

Stiles bursts out laughing and a moment later Allison joins him. They drive in silence for a little while, Stiles occasionally texting back and forth with Derek. About five minutes from the police station, he relays some of the messages to Allison. “Scott does think we should be more on alert, but mostly by letting everyone in the pack and the adults know the details. Derek says Scott thinks between your dad’s guys and my dad’s staff, they should be able to keep a good watch.”  
“Let other humans in on the supernatural?” asks Allison.

Stiles types back at Derek and waits for the ding of a reply. “He, I’m sure not at all sarcastically, would like to point out that the local police force is probably aware and concerned about a serial killer anyway and that it would be easy enough to slip wolfsbane laced bullets into their supply so that they’re prepared without necessarily having to know about said serial killer being some kind of demonic werewolf.”

“Oh well if they’re going to be all smart about it.”

“Although, speaking of hunters and such,” continues Stiles, “I thought you handled yourself really well with Kali and Jennifer.”

Allison pulls into a parking spot and turns the car off. “I didn’t step over the line did I? I know we haven’t really figured out which of us is going to be the official Hunter for the pack.”

“That’s kind of why I’m bringing it up. I think it should be you.”

Allison turns to fully face him, a look of clear shock on her face. “Really? But you have so much more training.”

“And if the pack needs me in a particular situation, I can step up. I just...I like what I’m learning as an emissary. Plus the power from it doesn’t affect me the same way holding a gun does. I don’t think I’d be as likely to lose control.”

“I don’t think my actions over the last few months are the best resume for not losing control. Derek would never agree,” protests Allison.

“I’m pretty sure Derek would be the last person to judge you for being manipulated by an evil member of the Argent family.”  
Allison gives him a sharp look. “You know?”

Stiles nods. “I’m one of the three other people in our class giving Lydia a run for her money at valedictorian and that’s not a situation that took a rocket scientist. Though I wouldn’t suggest bringing it up to Derek.”

“No, of course not. Who are the other two? And Lydia has competition?”

“I’d say ‘ouch’, but you make a fair point,” grins Stiles. “The advantage is that Lydia may be hella smarter than the rest of us, but we just have to be as good as her at high school stuff. All her extra knowledge doesn’t count for grades. And uh, Danielle and Greenberg are the other two.”

“Greenberg?”

“She tests really well.”

Allison seems to ponder that for a moment before grabbing her backpack and following Stiles out of the car. “So you really don’t want to be the Hunter?”

“I really don’t. You’ll talk to Derek then?”

“I will,” agrees Allison.

They head into the police station then to talk to Stiles’ dad, only to get the unfortunate news they were expecting. There have been two more deaths, a nurse from an assisted living facility and a retired doctor across town. Both were on the opposite side of town from the Preserve, something all three agree is no coincidence. Stiles and Allison are just finishing updating John--with additional reminders from Stiles that his dad can have cheese on his salad or a full fat dressing, but not both--when Stiles and Allison bolt upright in their chairs, as though an invisible rope is pulling at them, and the air fills with the sound of a piercing scream.

They both turn to each other at once and breathe out a single word. “Lydia.”

~

 

“Turn here,” snaps Allison as Stiles tears through the city streets.

“I know, I know!” He’s already halfway through the next turn. The echo of Lydia’s scream is still in his head and somehow he knows exactly how to find her. That same pull he felt is still there, clearly pulling on all the pack bonds. His dad is with them, alternating between swearing at Stiles’ driving and marveling at the way he can feel the tug too, though it’s not as clear or strong for him.

John leans forward between the seats. “Where is she?”

“Somewhere in the preserve. We’re almost out of town, then I can find her faster,” answers Stiles.

“Is Lydia okay? Is she hurt? Why can’t I sense what you can?”

Stiles turns to answer, nearly sideswipes a parked car, and swears as he refaces the road.

Allison twists in her seat instead, though her hands keep twisting her crossbow in her hands, betraying her anxiety. “I think it’s because you’re pack but you’re still kind of on the outside. In time you should feel the same bond we do. And no, I don’t think she’s hurt.”

“Did you call her to tell Lydia you’re coming?” asks John. “So she knows for sure. What if this pull isn’t reciprocal?”

“I didn’t even think of that.” Allison grabs her phone out of her pocket and starts dialing, frowning almost immediately. “Voicemail.”

They pull up to one of the last redlights before reaching the Preserve borders, one notoriously long, and Stiles tries dialing on his phone. “Nothing.”

“What about the emissary training that Marin’s had you working on?” suggests John as the light changes.

Stiles thinks as he drives the rest of the way. They only have a few minutes left on the road before they’ll have to go on foot. He’s been struggling with his training with Miss Morrell. His rune work is moving in leaps and bounds, some of the things his mother taught him coming back and his natural talent from his dad’s ancestry, but working with the natural energy of Beacon Hills has been extremely difficult. As he pulls over and parks, he resolves to at least try. “Okay, give me a second. I’m gonna try to send a message to Lydia.”

“Can we help?” asks Allison.

Stiles shakes his head. “Just let me focus for a second. I don’t even know if I can do this.” He whispers the incantation that Marin taught him but spends just as much time inwardly begging the trees to help, for the land to carry a message to Lydia. Everything’s quiet and motionless for what seems like an eternity and then there’s the faintest feeling of calm coming back across the pull of Lydia’s call.

“I think it worked,” exclaims Allison.

“Something did,” replies Stiles. “Let’s go though.”

Ten minutes later they all come skidding to a stop a few feet from Lydia. The rest of the pack is there, all of them equally panting, with several of the werewolves looking like they ran the entire way. Lydia has her arms behind her, palms flat against a massive, dead tree. The rest of the forest clears out a few yards before the tree, leaving a clear circle around it. When Jackson cautiously calls Lydia’s name, her eyes snap open to see the pack. Her eyes are blazing, looking like literal flames, and it takes a long moment for them to return to their natural color. When they do, Lydia pulls away from the tree, visibly sags, and the scream that’s been pulling at the pack for the last hour fades away.

“Everyone,” says Lydia, with a sound of extreme triumph in her voice. “Welcome to the Nemeton.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lookit me go! No seriously, I'm super proud of myself because while the inspiration has been there, I've also been disciplining myself to work on WIPs, and thus the fairly consistent last few updates. Plus we have an upcoming end to the story. I will probably make this a series (and by probably I mean I have the next like 11 installments planned out) but happily the next couple entries will be single chapter stand alone stories, both to give me time to get ahead of myself on the multi-chaptered installments and to reward all of you who have patiently waited on updates.
> 
> If you've been waiting on Stiles to get all huntery, don't worry, you'll very much get to see it. I just really liked the idea of Stiles being the secret weapon as a hunter, while Allison takes on the face of Pack Hunter. 
> 
> And extra bonus, this chapter features a good smutty Sterek scene. With plenty of sap thrown in because y'all know that's how I roll.

Three days later, the third healer is found dead, Stiles has activated secrecy runes all around the Nemeton (they suspect it’s not easily found but he’s being extra cautious), and the entire pack is headed out of town to supposedly check out a few colleges in the San Francisco area. The real reason they left is to come up with a plan. Knowing Kali and Jennifer want to take down Deucalion is great, but they aren’t pack and no one feels like trusting them completely.

Scott and Allison volunteered to visit one campus to collect brochures and insure they won’t be lying about the trip, while Jackson and Lydia took on the other two.

No one believes that they’re actually interested in campus tours and auditing classes--okay except maybe with the exception of Lydia--but both couples seemed eager for some genuine, uninterrupted alone time.

Lydia and Stiles have had some small discussion on the way she was found at the Nemeton and the connection she obviously has with it. They used the drive to officially confirm that she’s a banshee. Lydia plans to use at least a couple hours of her day to visit the library at Berkeley to see if the folklore department has any information on banshees. The rest of her research will come when they return home to Beacon Hills and she can look through the beastiaries and see what her connection to Beacon Hills natural magic is.

Stiles happily enjoyed breakfast with Derek that morning, and now they’re meeting Erica, Boyd, and Isaac for lunch and to update them on their parts of the plan. Peter is supposed to be there too, but he insisted on shopping first.

“So what’d you think?” asks Derek as they claim a booth in the corner. He sits along the back edge, in a perfect vantage point to see all the exits, keeping a watchful eye out.

Stiles pulls the salt shaker over to him, pours a little onto the table, and traces a silencing rune into it before he answers. They’ve been fairly certain that none of Deucalion’s pack followed them, but better not to take chances. “Well you know, I think Berkeley’s perfect for me. It’s got a good criminal justice program since I want to follow in my dad’s footsteps, but the folklore department is amazing. Can you imagine all the research I could do without raising any suspicions? I could write papers about dragons, Derek. Dragons!”

Derek snickers a little at Stiles’ exuberance, though he really does agree that the opportunities sound great. “I’m sure you’d make quite the khaleesi.”

“Oh you know I’d look good in a dress.” Stiles bursts out laughing as the image makes Derek flush bright red. “What about you? Could you be happy here for a few years?”

“As long as I have you and my pack, I could be happy anywhere.”

“That is the sweetest, and sappiest, thing I’ve ever heard.” Stiles says. He steals a quick kiss from Derek though, because how could he not after hearing something like that.

“Can I get you gentlemen something to drink?” asks the waiter,

“Coffee please. With extra cream.”

“Do you have dr pepper?” asks Derek.

“Yes sir.”

“That’ll be great, thanks.”

Derek gives Stiles a puzzled look. “Coffee with lunch.”

Stiles shrugs. “It sounded good. I’ll switch once I order. Or hey coffee and curly fries, it’ll be a new thing.”

They’re interrupted from that stimulating conversation as Erica, Boyd, and Isaac come in the door and make their way over to the booth. “Hey lovebirds,” says Erica as she slides in next to Derek.

“Really Erica?”

“Don’t get her started,” advises Boyd.

While Erica protests that she really doesn’t mean anything by it, the others decide on lunch by the time the waiter returns. Stiles opts for a benedict burger, with pastrami and a fried egg on top of a regular burger and his usual curly fries. Boyd’s been on a veggie burger kick and the quinoa burger on the menu seems particularly interesting to him. Derek picks a Reuben, Erica a grilled cheese with tomato soup, and Isaac gets three orders of chicken strips with fries.

“How was your morning?” asks Derek once the waiter’s disappeared again.

“Great,” beams Isaac. “It was kinda nice hanging out just the three of us.”

“More importantly though,” says Boyd, “do we have a plan for dealing with Deucalion? The next challenge will probably be issued when we return.”

“And did your dad say anything about the deaths that keep happening?” asks Erica. “That seems like something we should be concerned with.

Derek nods. “That’s a big part of why we left town this weekend. Allison is updating Lydia and Jackson, and Stiles and I need to bring you two in on the plan as well.”

They spend the rest of the meal explaining what’s been going on to the rest of the pack. Everything from the deaths and what they mean for the five fold knot, what Deucalion wants with the Nemeton and why they believe it’s a good sign that Lydia seems to have a connection to it, even if they don’t know how to use it yet. Stiles does share that he’s decided to focus on his emissary training more than his hunter heritage, though he doesn’t bring up the idea of Allison being the pack hunter. She’s planning on discussing that with Derek on the ride home, and Stiles doesn’t want to step in where he doesn’t belong.

Erica voices the trio’s (rather understandable) frustration at being kept out of the loop for the last couple weeks, but they’re calmed down when Derek explains that they’ve been trying to connect the dots anyway, and that Derek has just been trying to find a way to tell everyone without risking any of Deucalion’s pack overhearing.

Then they explain the plan.

“Are you insane?” asks Isaac. “No seriously, are you actually insane?”

“You don’t think it will work?” frowns Stiles.

“I think the problem is that it will work,” interjects Boyd. “Derek, you’re really okay with this? You realize what it means?”

Derek nods. “I think it’s absolutely manageable. Sure it’ll take some work, but Stiles, Allison and I are very sure of what Jennifer and Kali will try to pull. This is the plan with the best possible chance of success.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” asks Erica. “And they just attack us all.”

“We kill them,” says Stiles in a tone of steel, his eyes flashing. “My idea of mercy doesn’t extend to seeing my own pack get hurt.”

The claim Stiles puts behind his words makes Derek lean in and kiss him hard, while the betas eyes spark gold. The sense of pack is strong and it pulls them closer together. After a few more minutes, their food arrives, and the conversation turns to working out every detail of the plan.

~

Upon arriving back in Beacon Hills, Stiles and Derek go first to the Sheriff’s station to check in with Stiles’ father. “Welcome back,” says John, opening the door to his office. “Hang on just a second, I have a couple deputies I want to bring in on this.”

Stiles looks in confusion at Derek, who shrugs, not knowing what John means either. They wait until John returns with two young deputies that Stiles is unfamiliar with, both about Derek’s age.

“This is Jordan Parrish and Braeden ___.” John makes the introductions as the others shake hands.

“Um Dad…”

John shuts his door and passes his hands over the silencing runes that he put over his door when he first got the job at the station. “Parrish and Braeden are new transfers. They’re kids of some old hunter friends.”

“Oh!” exclaims Stiles, suddenly cluing in.

“And you’re sure they’re trustworthy?” questions Derek.

Braeden leans against the Sheriff’s desk and gives Derek an assessing gaze. “You don’t trust at face value. That’s the sign of a good leader.”

“Its also the sign of an overprotective leader,” observes Parrish.

Stiles glares at him. “You’re new. Newbies do not get to judge.”

Parrish holds his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Sorry, I’m not trying to judge, I’d just like to point out that John Stilinski wouldn’t bring anyone into a position like this unless he trusted them implicitly.”

John jumps in before an argument can start. “I’m not asking you to bring these two in on everything. I just felt that to do my side of things in an official capacity, I needed a couple people on the force who were aware of the supernatural side of Beacon Hills. If I’m not available or if I can’t get to you as quickly, call either of them and they can contain a situation.”

“That’s actually a good idea,” acknowledges Stiles.

“There’s one more thing,” says John. “I know we’re trying to prevent another series of deaths, but that we may not be able to. Still, I want to be able to know what pattern we’re looking for. Have you guys figured out the next grouping?”

Derek nods. “Teachers. I’d watch the schools and probably retirees too. Deucalion’s spell doesn’t seem to hinge on people being active in their role.”

“Good to know,” says Braeden.

After a few more minutes of discussion, Braeden and Parrish return to work. Stiles updates his dad on the more detailed plan--he reacts a lot like the betas first did--but he comes around too. Then Derek and Stiles return to Derek’s loft.

When they arrive, they find the final challenge pinned to Derek’s door.

_“The Hale Pack has proven their worth as humans and as wolves._

_Now it’s time to earn your right to be pack. You must fight to defend_

_the honor and safety of your pack. My pack has appointed the fighters_

_from yours, you may choose the weapon. We will see the following:_

_Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, and Allison Argent to face Aiden, Ethan,_

_and Ennis at dusk tomorrow.”_

“You know what’s going on right?” asks Stiles as soon as they’re inside the house and out of earshot from any potential spies of Deucalion’s pack.

“Deucalion doesn’t have to be there to fight and I am in the mix,” replies Derek. “It’s exactly like we thought.”

“So how do we proceed?” Stiles starts putting things away from the weekend as he talks, not really noticing that he’s putting his own clothes in with Derek’s.

Derek very much notices, but chooses not to say anything. He likes the idea of having Stiles’ scent mixed with his and if Stiles decides it’s a problem, Derek has no doubt he’ll bring it up later. Instead he browses through the kitchen to find something to eat. There’s pasta, a slightly potent but still useable bulb of garlic and a few cans of diced tomatoes, so Derek grabs a few spices and starts whipping up spaghetti. He may not be a gourmet chef, but he can make comfort food better than almost anyone in the pack.

“First, you call Jennifer and make plans to do the spell during the fight. It’s the new moon so you’ll be able to gather extra power. Let her be responsible for excusing her and Kali’s appearance, as well as several members of our pack from Deucalion. They chose me deliberately, to keep me occupied, they can figure out how to escape Duke’s notice.” Derek turns to the simmering sauce, tastes it, then adds an extra dash of sugar to tone down the acidity of the tomatoes. “And text Lydia. Make sure she covers the rest of the plan on our end.”

“Got it,” says Stiles, with a mock salute. He takes his phone out and sends a quick text to Lydia, including a pic of the challenge, knowing she’ll start the phone tree to the rest of the pack. Stiles then spreads his array of weapons, mostly knives on the table and begins cleaning them, remarking any necessary runes, and organizing them for the next day.

~

Within a few hours, the rest of the pack has responded and insured they know what’s expected of them tomorrow, the spaghetti has been eaten and dishes put away, and Stiles is standing over the kitchen table, once again mapping out every possible outcome.

“You’ve looked enough,” says Derek, leaning over Stiles’ shoulder.

“I don’t want to miss anything. And if I don’t keep busy, I’ll just worry more.”

Derek nips at Stiles’ neck in response and kisses his way up to just behind Stiles’ ear. “Oh I can think of a few ways to keep you busy.”

Stiles tilts his head back to give Derek better access. Being the same height makes it easier really. “Is that a fact?” he teases.

Derek’s hands slip just past the waistband of Stiles’ jeans and press against Stiles’ hips, pulling them flush against each other. “Mmm,” he murmurs as he goes back to sucking marks into the skin of Stiles’ neck.

“I can think of better places to be than the kitchen table. Not that I don’t have ideas for this table in the future,” notes Stiles.

He’s answered in Derek turning him around to face him, kissing fiercely as Derek walks them both towards the living room. Stiles fists his hands around Derek’s shirt, keeping them tight together and manages to only stumble once as he walks backwards. He’s more interested in continuing to kiss Derek anyway.

Somehow by the time they get to a chair, both of their shirts are off and Derek is shimmying out of his jeans. Stiles twists slightly, pushing Derek into the oversized chair in the corner. He quickly strips off his own jeans before climbing into Derek’s lap, taking advantage of the opportunity to run his hands over Derek’s chest as he returns to kissing him.

“Derek,” breathes Stiles, pulling back for a minute.

“What?”

“If you want to stop, tell me now,” says Stiles. Derek’s been the one holding back lately and Stiles doesn’t want to push too far.

“I don’t want to stop,” Derek replies. “But um, we could take things a little slow.”

Stiles looks down at Derek and barely manages to keep from grinding against Derek’s crotch. The little abrupt movement does enough if Derek’s barely stifled moan is any indication. “Slow like I need to sit on the couch while we cool down or slow like don’t go grab the lube but I can absolutely get my hand around you and get us both off? Because I really wanna touch you, Derek.” He makes no apologies for begging a little with the last few words. Derek’s cock is hard and pressing against Stiles and he’d really like to take advantage of that.

“Touch me,” begs Derek and the hint of neediness in his tone is everything Stiles needs for permission.

He pulls Derek’s dick out of his boxer briefs just as Derek tugs Stiles’ own boxers down, then licks his palm before wrapping his hand around Derek and stroking in smooth motions. Stiles leans back in to kiss Derek, letting his hands do part of the work while he focuses on how Derek tastes.

There’s a moment where he moves jerkily, trying to get his own friction, before Derek solves the problem by reaching his own hand into the mix, pressing Stiles’ cock against his own and stroking in unison with Stiles.

“So fucking perfect,” groans Derek, his other hand reaching up to tangle in Stiles’ hair.

“Right,” says Stiles, in between kisses, “back...at ya.”

He’s not sure how much time passes, the sensations all but overwhelming him, until he and Derek are both coming at once, spilling over each other’s hands, no longer actively kissing but simply panting into each others’ mouths.

After several long minutes of the two of them resting against each other, recovering their breath, Stiles shifts to the side of the chair, his legs across Derek’s lap, not even caring that his boxers are twisted awkwardly around his knees. “Definitely my new favorite hobby,” he blurts out, and then grins as Derek laughs out loud before tugging him back over for another kiss.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

They learn that three others, all guardians of a sort, are killed overnight, insuring that Deucalion is in prime position to take control of the Nemeton. Derek sends word via Aiden as to their weapon of choice: the power of pack. Aiden bursts out laughing when Derek says the words, pointing out that a pack of betas, several of whom were almost omegas, will never have the power of an alpha pack. Derek simply nods and his head and insists they will either live or die as one.

There’s a quiet moment between all pack members before they head out, each mentally steeling themselves for what comes next. Just because they have a plan, doesn’t mean they aren’t all in a fair amount of danger.

When they all reach the clearing, the alpha pack is waiting. Looming.

“I heard you chose to use the power of your pack to fight,” comments Deucalion. “A foolish choice, given the obvious power imbalance between our packs, but at least it will make this easier.”

“At least I’m a leader willing to fight alongside my pack,” returns Derek.

Ennis snarls, only subsiding when Deucalion places a hand on his arm. “I understand your need to taunt. Perhaps when you have been an alpha as long as I have, you two will have proven yourself enough that you won’t feel the need to posture.”

Stiles snickers in the background. The reaction causes several to turn and stare at him, then Kali speaks up. “I think for the sake of insuring a fairly fought battle, the druid shouldn’t be allowed to watch. I’d hate to think he’d interfere if the fight went badly.”

Stiles has to admit, it’s a damn good excuse, especially because the only natural response is “If I go, so does Jennifer. Fair is fair.”

Deucalion nods his agreement. “Take them out of earshot, Kali. The banshee too.”

Unable to hide his surprise, Stiles gapes at Deucalion. “You know?”

“I didn’t get my power by not being able to recognize a descendant of the fae. And I won’t let her throw the battle either. Go.”

Kali and Jennifer begin to move away, roughly pulling Stiles and Lydia along with them, making no noise until they’ve run far enough that Kali declares them far enough out of earshot, since she heard the fight begin and now she can no longer hear it.

~

As the rest of the alpha pack turns to face the Hale pack fighters, Scott mutters “I’m not leaving them with an enemy werewolf,” and takes off after the foursome.

“Let the fight begin,” orders Deucalion.

They’re fairly evenly matched at first, Derek’s heritage as a born wolf and Allison’s skill as a huntress helping immensely. But after about fifteen minutes, the tides start to turn. It’s when Derek tears at Ethan’s shirt, revealing a tattooed rune to invoke extra power, that they realize why they’re being so heavily beaten. “You cheated,” snaps Allison.

“We have an emissary,” growls Aiden. “She is required to share her power.”

“And there’s the difference,” notes Derek. “You force that power. Our emissary gives it willingly, and we were under no illusions about your honesty.” He howls and runes Stiles left on all of their skin light up the night sky.

Ethan is blocked midswing before he ever reaches Erica’s body and she never has to lift a finger. “What the hell did you do?”

“We did exactly what you did. We used the power of our pack.”

Derek and Erica reach out and catch the wolfsbane coated knives that Allison throws at them, wolfsbane that is unable to harm them so long as Stiles’ runes hold.  Allison in turn pulls a sawed off shotgun from behind a tree and aims it steadily at Ennis’s heart.

“Not so skilled with the bow, the Argent weapon of choice?” sneers Deucalion from the sidelines.

“Hunters have to be versatile,” she answers. “Now will you concede and leave our territory?”

Deucalion snarls, his eyes flashing alpha red and his fellow alphas growl in response. “Kill them all,” he commands.

With the parameters of the fight broken, Isaac, Boyd, and Jackson leap into the fray, equally armed and attack with fervor. The remaining alphas put up a good fight, but after another twenty minutes, the three appointed challengers are dead at the feet of the Hale pack and they’re all facing Deucalion, who is wounded but shows no sign of faltering.

Jackson is bleeding but healing, Erica is shaky but upright, and Derek is nearly exhausted with his own wounds, but they will finish this. Allison lifts her hand to signal a next move, when Deucalion reels back, grabbing at the air as if to catch a severed thread. “No,” he gasps, and takes off running through the woods, in the exact direction of Stiles, Lydia, and his remaining pack members.

~

Stiles turns to Jennifer as soon as he and Lydia have caught their breath after running from the scene of the werewolf battle. “Okay, so we’ll set up everything for the spell, and as soon as Derek finishes facing off against Ennis, he’ll be here to finish it.”

Jennifer frowns and a worried look crosses her face. “There’s no time for that. If the fight finishes, Deucalion will have to return and then he’ll focus his attention on the rest of us.”

“But I thought we needed the local alpha,” protests Stiles.

“Oh Derek would have been best,” says Jennifer in what Stiles assumes are supposed to be comforting tones. “But we can manage with a substitute. I’m sure Kali wouldn’t mind stepping in.”

“Not at all,” agrees the she-alpha.

“I guess that could work,” says Stiles. “Can we transfer the connection to Derek once Deucalion’s been defeated?”

“Of course.”

Stiles pauses, thinking for a moment. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

Jennifer smiles. “I’m quite sure. This will be the perfect fix.”

They continue putting the items together for the spell, marking out a symbol in the dirt for the Nemeton. According to Jennifer, once the spell is finished, Kali will be able to sense the location of the Nemeton and thus draw on its power to fully defeat Deucalion. Stiles and Lydia have had to be very careful in their wording when discussing the ancient tree so as to keep their heart rates steady. They didn’t tell Marin about discovering the Nemeton. They might trust her to a point, but she’s not pack.

It takes several more minutes to finish preparing and by that point, the new moon is clearly visible in the night sky.

“We’re ready,” says Jennifer. She joins hands with Kali, then reaches for Marin’s hand, who joins with Stiles. Kali takes Stiles’ other hand and they begin a steady chant in Latin.

Stiles can feel the ground growing restless under his feet, the power surging upwards into the spell. As the magic reaches a crescendo and Jennifer leads them into the last stanza of the spell, Stiles yanks his hands free from both, spinning around in one smooth motion. Lydia immediately grabs one of his hands and from the shadows Scott emerges, linking his hands with Lydia and Stiles.

Stiles rattles a new set of words and the building power soars through him and settles in both Lydia and Scott. Scott’s eyes burn alpha red and the flames that lit Lydia’s eyes at the Nemeton return. In the background, Jennifer screeches with rage. Stiles finishes his chant and turns back to the circle.

The reactions are varied. Kali is in full beta shift, clearly anxious to fight but waiting for Jennifer’s decision. Jennifer is practically apoplectic in her rage and Marin merely looks amused, as though she’s more impressed with Stiles’ plan than anything else. “He’s not an alpha!” yells Jennifer.

“No, he wasn’t,” answers Stiles firmly. “But he had the potential and more importantly, he is part of our pack. You didn’t really think we’d turn over the power of Beacon Hills to strangers did you?”

“Stiles, we told you we’d give it back. This was just to beat Deucalion,” insists Jennifer.

“Really? So your order didn’t want access to a Nemeton? Because my research told me quite differently.” Stiles can feel Lydia and Scott come up to flank him. “We appreciate your warning, but it was quite obvious what you really had planned, especially once Derek was chosen to fight and therefore be occupied tonight. Beacon Hills is ours.”

“Can I kill him now?” snaps Kali.

“Fine by me,” says Jennifer coldly, stepping out of the way.

Kali lunges forward, knocking into Scott and then twisting quickly to face Stiles. Her leap into the hair is halted as Stiles blocks her attempt with his iron plated, mountain ash bat. He then twists knives in both of his hands, stabbing into Kali’s gut, before pulling them out again and pressing upwards, into her chest cavity. He lets one blade rest at the tip of Kali’s heart, knowing the wolfsbane burns and she can see how close to death she is.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he says coldly. “You gave us information you didn’t need to, and for that, I’m not ending your life here and now. So you can have a choice. You will both either leave Beacon Hills forever, never setting foot within 100 miles of our territory again, or I will kill you now.”

Kali’s head tries to turn to find Jennifer, looking for aid.

“She can’t help you,” Stiles points out as he pulls one blade free, twirling a circle of mountain ash around Kali before he quickly pulls the other out and steps out of the circle, leaving Kali trapped and raging.

It’s true. Scott has Jennifer held firm, while Lydia’s standing directly in front of her, eyes locked on the emissary. “Did you know that a banshee in control of her power doesn’t just predict death? She can cause it.”

“There’s no way this girl has known she’s a banshee for even a month,” spits Jennifer, though she doesn’t try to move.

“8 days actually,” answers Lydia. “But I’m a very fast learner.”

“I don’t care how fast you are, you can’t learn that much that fast,” repeats Jennifer.

Lydia smiles, that scary, deadly smile that Stiles and Scott both know as the one she only uses when she’s about to rip someone to shreds and trample across the dust left behind. “Oh I didn’t have to learn a lot. But you see, once I figured out what I was, and more importantly, that it’s a ancestral power, I decided to go speak with my grandmother. She’s a professor at Berkeley, you see.”

“Granny taught you to scream them,” smirks Kali. “Well go ahead little girl.”

Lydia opens her mouth as if she’s going to scream. Stiles, Scott, Jennifer, and Marin--who is standing off to the side--hear nothing. Kali falls to her knees as blood trickles out her ears. A few seconds later, Lydia stops. “As you can hear, a banshee can control her powers quite well. I didn’t need to know all the tricks of the sidhe, just enough for tonight. Grandmother has knowledge, even if she doesn’t have the same level of power.”

“I’m not a wolf,” says Jennifer. “It’ll take more power than that to bring me down.”

Lydia grins, fierce and feral. “Did you know that Lydia means noble? My mother agreed to let Grandmother name me, since my mother dropped her maiden name when she married. You see, the women keep their surname in my family, at least most do. So Lorraine Morrigan, my grandmother, named me Lydia Eriu. And it seems I carry all the power such a name suggests.”

Stiles can see the fight leave Jennifer’s eyes at once. “What do you want?”

“Jennifer!” snaps Kali.

“They won,” replies Jennifer. “Trust me. A banshee I can fight. I can’t fight a daughter of the original bean sidhe.”

Kali growls at them. “You can’t force us forever. I’ll have my revenge.”

“Actually you won’t,” interjects Scott, turning his head to look at Kali, though he still holds Jennifer firm. “Because you are going to swear allegiance to me. You will claim me as your alpha here and now or you die.”

“And to disobey a direct order from your alpha is impossible.” Jennifer seems begrudgingly respectful. “I agree.”

It takes several more minutes for both her and Kali to swear their loyalty to Scott. Then Scott gives a firm command, one that was carefully scripted by both Lydia and Peter, so as to make certain there were no loopholes. When finished, Lydia and Scott step away from Jennifer while Stiles breaks the line.

“I suggest you run fast,” commands Scott. “Right about now is when Deucalion will be realizing he’s lost all the power of his pack. Three to death and two to betrayal. I wouldn’t count on him to be as understanding as we are.”

Kali and Jennifer take off instantly, dashing through the trees, soon to be out of sight.

“Congratulations,” comments Marin Morrell.

“You might want to leave too,” says Stiles. “You’re an ally, you’re not pack.”

“And I won’t be the first person you’d try to protect,” she observes. “I’ll see you next week for further training.”

Stiles nods and Marin disappears into the woods. The trio stays silent for another moment, before they collapse in on each other in a massive hug. “We did it,” says Stiles in amazement. “We actually did it.”

“Almost.” Scott pulls away, listening, before he turns away. His claws appear, his teeth lengthen, and the sound of several people crashing through the woods becomes louder, until the clearing is full of the Hale pack--Erica and Derek breathing heavily with their wounds and leaning on their packmates--and Deucalion roars into the night at the center of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so with only one chapter left and most of the main action done (cuz lets be real, Stiles and Allison are about to be the most badass hunter duo), I wanted to explain a few things about this series. The original notes at the beginning of this still apply. But as I've been working on it, and as two more seasons of Teen Wolf have gone by (or 1.5 depending on how you count), I've had more ideas. The first is that I kind of want to play with TW canon, but in ways that make more sense. At least to me. Because I think many of you will agree with me that Teen Wolf has a lot of great ideas, but they just aren't executed very well. Or you might agree that characters could be more beloved if they weren't forced down our throats/written merely as fill ins for past characters. So I want to play with some of that. And as well work on some of the other lack of character development that frustrates me.
> 
> For example: I think it's hella bullshit that Lydia wouldn't have figured out she was a banshee by about 2 episodes into S3. She has a need to know obsession just like Stiles. And it's even more absurd that she wouldn't learn how to control it after this long. Hence the activities of this chapter. Some canon stuff obviously will change, but anyways yeah.
> 
> The second thing you can look forward to, or I guess decide now that you want out, is that I want to occasionally merge other verses in with this one. Like the mention of the Winchesters as other hunters, or when you'll get to know Claudia's side of the family, or when a hybrid baby might show up in Mystic Falls, and more. You can always send me ideas on those overlap bits. 
> 
> Last but not least, feel free to come talk to me on tumblr anytime. I'm onlymystories.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished it! And in the same year that I started, will miracles never cease.

Deucalion’s in full alpha form, one more twisted than Peter’s used to be, and his eyes aren’t ringed with red, but pure black.

“What have you done?!” he snarls, teeth snapping.

“You may have gained your power by killing your pack and collecting alphas who did the same,” states Stiles, “but if they are no longer in your pack, you cannot draw your power.”

“Oh and we took control of the Nemeton too,” adds Lydia. She steps back towards the injured members of the pack though, and out of the direct line of battle, leaving Scott, Stiles, and Allison facing Deucalion. The rest of the non-injured members of the pack form a half-circle behind them as support.

Deucalion howls again, a guttural sound, and steps closer. “You think you can defeat me? A brand new alpha, a barely trained emissary, and a hunter still in her training wheels? I am the demon wolf!”

Stiles can’t help himself, he bursts into laughter. “Omigod dude, how many times did you practice that in the mirror?”

“Stiles!” snaps Lydia. “Focus!”

He nods in apology. “Right, right, sorry. See here’s the thing Duke. Power doesn’t come with a title. Power is earned and yes, sometimes its taken. But what you don’t understand is that Scott’s been an alpha for a long time. He’s not new to protecting his pack.” As he says the words, Scott howls, low and long with a very specific type of power in his voice, just like Derek taught him to while they were working on this plan. Deucalion’s body shakes and convulses, becoming less wolf-like and more like some twisted, misshapen man.

“What did you do?”

“You were unworthy of the wolf,” says Scott firmly. “And as an alpha of Beacon Hills and alpha of the Nemeton, I can choose to take away the wolf’s power.”

“That’s impossible!” yells Deucalion.

Scott shakes his head. “Not when you threw away the honor of pack for power and death.”

Deucalion growls. “So be it. I have given up far costlier things for my power and no mere wolf will take it from me.”

Allison and Stiles both grin at those words. “That’s where we come in,” says Allison. “You’re right that the hunter thing is new. The training however, I’ve been doing that since I was a kid. I just didn’t know why. And Stiles here…,” she turns to look at him. “Well, why don’t I let you tell that story?”

Stiles follows Allison’s lead and brings his knives back up into an attack position, knowing he’ll have only seconds once he finishes this to defend himself against Deucalion. “My father’s family holds the emissary power, this is true. Stilinski is an adopted name. My parents wanted to show that we were still Polish, without giving up our true identities. You see, my father is a czarodziej

and a direct descendant of Mieszko, while my mother’s name was Myśliwy.”

Deucalion gives him a blank stare. Or well, that’s what Stiles’ interprets from the blackness that is Deucalion’s gaze.

“Perhaps I should be more clear. My mother is Claudia Myśliwy, of Dom Zabójców Demonów. A bit literal I know, but these old families did like to be literal in their names.”

A loud growl from Deucalion interrupts him. “The demon hunters of Poland died out years ago. All the legends stop in the dark ages.”

“Of course they do,” replies Stiles. “What good are hunters if their prey is always on alert?” As he finishes speaking, Deucalion lunges and everything becomes about the fight.

All the training that Stiles and Allison have done pays off, as they move in unison in their attack. They both have knives with very specific runes carved into them, done by Stiles’ father, since has more skill and a better memory of the things Claudia shared with them. The hilts are made of mountain ash and the blades rubbed with purified salt, so they burn whenever they touch Deucalion. Little by little he weakens, though not without getting his own hits in on them as he goes.

Allison slices at a tendon, sending Deucalion onto one knee, and then Stiles’ kicks hard and perfectly positioned, knocking out Deucalion’s other kneecap and sending him to the ground.

“Now!” shouts Allison and she and Stiles jump backwards as Derek and Scott rush in, claws out, swiping at Deucalion’s throat as one and insuring that if any alpha power remains, it is split between them.

A few seconds pass before Deucalion falls and an overwhelming sense of finality falls over the pack.

“Is it done?” asks Boyd after several minutes of silence.

“Yeah,” answers Stiles.

There’s quiet for a little longer. Then, in typical Erica fashion, she laughs and claps a hand on both Scott and Derek’s shoulders. “Well then all that’s left is to figure out how these two are going to manage to co-alpha this motley crew.”

The burst of laughter that follows eases the tension. Stiles slips his less bloody hand into Derek’s and the pack makes their way out of the woods and back to the McCall house, where Melissa is supposed to be waiting with first aid and their usual collection of take-out menus.

~

Several hours later, when the remains of delivery are scattered around them (Melissa gave up on clean-up about five minutes into the first round), Jackson turns toward Derek and Stiles, who are curled against each other on one end of the couch. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd are sprawled out on the floor, where Erica keeps kicking at Isaac while he tugs on her curls. Boyd as usual is giving his “I’m so much better than this” though he occasionally pokes back. The Sheriff is still sitting at the dining room table that was pulled into the room, his deputies and Chris sitting with him. Melissa crashed a while ago, but Allison and Scott claimed the loveseat and Lydia’s stretched out on the other half of the couch.

“So now what?” asks Jackson.

“We have to figure out how to protect the Nemeton,” says Stiles.

“And get back to our usual training,” adds Allison.

“School starts in a week,” chimes in Lydia. Her contribution gets loud outcries of disgust. “Oh please. It’s our senior year. You all have to be looking forward to it a little bit.”

Stiles rubs his thumb over Derek’s hand. “I suppose I am a little excited. We’ll go figure out the Nemeton stuff tomorrow. Then we can worry about school.”

Derek nods. “Boyd and Jackson can help coordinate everyone’s schedules. You should all have at least one other person in each of your classes and they’re the best at organizing.”

Both boys look pleased at the compliment.

“And someone needs to talk to Danny,” says Scott. “Because I’m pretty sure he knows about us.”

~

The next afternoon, they gather at the Nemeton. None of the adults are there, being adjacent pack members, but the rest stand around offering suggestions on how they might keep the Nemeton hidden from prying eyes. There are a lot of great suggestions, but none that insure neither human nor supernatural would be able to get to the Nemeton.

“Have you learned anything from your emissary training that could help?” asks Allison, when it seems they’ve exhausted most other ideas. They’ve tried several out--Stiles came well stocked with magical ingredients--but none have really worked.

Stiles makes a grumbling noise of complaint. “All I’ve learned so far is how to talk to the trees. I doubt that will get us anywhere.”

“Maybe you should ask,” comes a voice from behind them. The pack turns to see Danny step out from among the trees. He looks as impeccable as always, with one noticeable difference; a wreath of tree branches rests on his head. Danny nods at Derek, then Scott. “Alpha Hale. Alpha McCall. I represent the dryads of Beacon Hills. We are more than happy to protect our town in whatever way we can.”

The others stare in surprise.

Danny smiles. “The Hale pack is whole again. As such, you’ll find more allies than you first realized. Who better to protect a tree that serves as the beacon for this land, than the spirits of the trees themselves?” He whistles a few notes into the wind, notes that cause the rustling of leaves in the forest and Stiles can suddenly see the trees shifting.

“So,” says Danny, “shall we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Polish here is straight from google translator because I am not Polish and a wee bit lazy. So the translation is that Sheriff Stilinski is a sorcerer. The Mieszko line is a reference to Mieszko, the first king of Poland. The line died out years ago historically, but I thought it'd be fun to use here. Claudia's last name is the Polish word for hunter, of the house of demon killers. Deucalion may not know of her family specifically, but it will come into play in future installments. 
> 
> Be sure to subscribe to the series if you want notifications of the next bits. They won't all feature Derek/Stiles (they won't break up or anything, just sometimes I'm going to add interludes from other povs) so if you only look through those fics, you might miss something.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to put this fic/series in with my BAMF!Stiles series (since it obviously fits there too). As a reminder, all the fics in the BAMF!Stiles series are unrelated except by Stiles' bamfery and so details will change back and forth. If you only want hunter!Stiles, stay in the "Call of the Pack" series.


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